


To Save A Jedi

by DaniDarth



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebellion Era - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Angst, F/M, Gen, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Sith Obi-Wan Kenobi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:22:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 52,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24682258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DaniDarth/pseuds/DaniDarth
Summary: Anakin Skywalker leaves Coruscant before the events that would inevitably lead to his downfall and Obi-Wan Kenobi stays behind to pick up the pieces. How far would brothers go to save each other from harm?
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 61
Kudos: 269





	1. Prologue - Just A Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> New story! Hope you guys enjoy and let me know what you think! :)

Obi-Wan Kenobi sat silently and he listened. He couldn’t deny it was logical, but somehow, it felt so terribly wrong. There was no way he could possibly explain it. It was not a vision; it was not a dream or even a voice from the Force. It was not even a thought. It was merely a sensation; as if he had a hand inside his chest squeezing at his heart.

Be he kept listening and, for some reason, he felt incapable of opening his mouth to utter a single word, completely at a loss as how to explain this feeling; this invisible fist draining the life out of his heart; stopping his very blood from pumping.

And as he heard he closed his eyes; he felt a headache coming.

He ran his hand through his beard out of habit; he always did it when he was nervous. And he had never felt as uneasy as he did in that very moment.

Master Mundi sighed before he spoke. The blue hologram that displayed his troubled features flickered. “Perhaps if we accept this nomination Skywalker could inform us about the Chancellor’s dealings.”

Yoda sighed and hummed, yet remained wordless.

“I don’t really like the idea of those two together. But I believe we have no other choice if we want to know what the Chancellor is planning.” Mace Windu’s authoritative voice echoed throughout the room. It made Obi-Wan cringe, adding to his discomfort. The distrust he had toward Anakin was a tough pill to swallow, especially when his feelings were completely opposite.

Maybe that’s why his old Padawan didn’t trust the Council, he thought bitterly as he felt his heart tighten further and his head ache harder.

That is why he knew this was not right. None of this was right. He didn’t know why or how. But it was not right!

“Dangerous, this is.” Yoda offered, his voice pained and filled with sorrow.

Master Windu scoffed. “They’re both dangerous! It could be a disastrous combination; but it is a risk we have to take.”

Obi-Wan winced. Anakin? Dangerous? The best Knight the Jedi Order had seen in centuries? Perhaps in the entirety of their history? It was absurd! Anakin had been with the Order for thirteen years and he had certainly become the best Jedi Knight they had; strong, intelligent, skilled and with a brilliant strategic mind. He had won countless battles for the Republic, his methods, although unconventional, were certainly effective. Obi-Wan would never understand the distrust. It was not Anakin that he didn’t trust. It was Palpatine, it was Coruscant.

“What is dangerous is for this mission to be on record. The Chancellor has been increasingly meddling in Jedi affairs.” Plo Koon’s voice spoke and Obi-Wan gazed about the room. All the Masters nodded their agreement and yet he remained still and quiet.

How would he tell them? How would he explain that he could not allow this? How would he voice that all of his being, that every cell in his body ached every time he thought of Anakin being in the presence of the Chancellor? How would he say that his heart almost felt like it would stop at the mere idea of it?

Obi-Wan Kenobi sighed and could not stop the urge to stand from his seat; it was as if he could not sit in that place anymore. He felt an overwhelming impulse to leave; to run far away and never return! Leave everything behind taking only Anakin with him. But he knew he was needed there.

This feeling that something terrible was going to happen would not abandon him; it was sucking the air out of his lungs and draining his veins from blood.

But instead of going he settled on standing at the window and gazed upon the city that stretched before him. The sun shone brightly and the city buzzed with life. It was as if no one had noticed that, only the previous day, a battle had occurred just above the planet. It was astonishing, really; that a place so filled with sentient life could be so utterly oblivious to everything that happened around them.

And Obi-Wan had another feeling, a sensation that he would never look at this city like this again; not that he would never see it, but that it would change. That everything would change. And not for the better.

The Jedi Master closed his eyes but, despite not seeing, he could feel the other Council members’ stare burning the back of his head. It was not common for Obi-Wan Kenobi to lose his composure, but he was losing it now. He could hardly avoid it. It was just too much; all that he felt was just so heart wrenching.

His headache began worsening; he rubbed at his forehead, willing it to stop. It was of no use.

“Perhaps you, Master Kenobi, should inform Skywalker of his new mission; off the record of course.” Master Windu said, making Obi-Wan open his eyes and look at the Masters that sat around that room where he had been so many times; a room he knew ever since he was nothing but a little boy.

They all stared at him, waiting for him to say something; anything. Suddenly Obi-Wan felt his cheeks burning and his heart beating faster. He thought of what to say; of how to explain what was that he was feeling; there was something burning inside of him.

What he could not say. But there was.

“No.” He answered simply, perhaps somewhat more sharply than he intended, but it could hardly be helped. “We must not accept this nomination. The Council selects its own members and he isn’t even a Jedi Master. And,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “I will certainly not ask Anakin to commit treason.”

The High Council became silenced by the uncharacteristic outburst of the usually calm and collected Jedi Master.

“Actually, we must send him away. He cannot stay on Coruscant.” Obi-Wan straightened his back as he said it. It felt like the right thing to say, for some reason.

Master Windu’s permanent frown deepened. “Send him away? We need him here more than ever.”

“Curious, Master. Just a minute ago you said you didn’t trust him.” Obi-Wan couldn’t stop a frown. “And now you need him?”

Mace opened his mouth to protest, but was interrupted. “Enough!” Said Yoda, his tone was unusually hard. “Explain your reasoning, you must, Master Kenobi.”

Obi-Wan faced the city once more and exhaled the breath he did not know was caught in his throat. “I can’t explain it, Master. But the Force… I feel a disturbance in the Force. He cannot stay here. I had no vision or premonition, but I just know. If he stays something terrible will happen. I don’t know what, but something that cannot be fixed.”

He turned to the old Master once more and watched as he nodded, closing his eyes softly. Something that looked like relief crossed his features. “Agree with you, I do.”

“Master Yoda, with all due respect, he is the closest person to the Chancellor. We cannot afford to have him off planet now!” Windu protested but Yoda was unrelenting.

“Our guide, the Force is. Follow its will we must.” Obi-Wan was now sure that the old Master shared his feeling; or at least was apprehensive about the duplicitous plan.

The other Masters nodded their agreement; easily changing their minds. Windu slumped slightly into his chair but took his defeat in stride.

Suddenly, Obi-Wan felt slightly better; not entirely, but a wave of relief washed over him. He moved away from the window and took his seat once more. “He will not leave without a mission.”

“Help his former Padawan capture the Sith on Mandalore, he must. Interrogate him, he will.”

Obi-Wan sighed. It was apt encouragement; he was sure Anakin would not object to capture a Sith Lord and help Ahsoka. He knew he missed his former Padawan. Even Obi-Wan missed her; she certainly knew how to brighten a gloomy room. Anakin had changed after her departure; became more serious. His sense of humor, crude as it had ever been, had dampened. He was sadder.

“Perhaps, though, this mission should be maintained off the record as well; if there is a reason to have Skywalker leave the planet maintaining his location a secret should also be advisable.” Plo-Koon suggested and Obi-Wan agreed wholeheartedly. The less people knew where Anakin was, the safer he would be.

He was in danger. He didn’t know from what, but he was. His former Padawan had been in perilous situations many times before. This time, however, it was different. Something dark loomed over the young man, he knew it; he could see it every time he set his eyes on him. It followed him around; clinging on to him, setting a target on Anakin’s back. Especially since they had returned to Coruscant, after that dreadful battle in the _Invisible Hand._

And Obi-Wan Kenobi knew, at that moment, that there was nothing he would not do to keep Anakin safe; there was nothing he would not sacrifice. He knew it wasn’t right; but the boy was the closest thing to a son that he would ever have and he felt fiercely protective of him.

Anakin was summoned to the Council Chamber. He stood before them, his head hung slightly lowered and Obi-Wan could clearly discern the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping. That was not a good sign; was he having those dreadful nightmares again?

Obi-Wan shuddered at the thought; be he knew he was. The slightly haunted look in his eyes said everything. He knew him far too well to miss it. He felt like standing from his chair and stroke his shoulder, ask him what was wrong, help him. But he knew Anakin’s trust in him had been shaken after Ahsoka’s expulsion from the Jedi Order.

What a stupid mistake they had made.

Anakin’s gaze lifted as Master Windu’s voice began. “We will not allow your appointment to this Council, for you do not yet have the rank of Master.”

Skywalker’s eyes widened and a flash of anger clearly crossed his features. “But isn’t the Chancellor free to choose whoever he wants?”

Yoda made a sound that could hardly be described. “Not a Jedi, the Chancellor is. Dismissed you are, young Skywalker.”

Obi-Wan could see him clench his jaw before he brusquely turned and headed towards the door, his cloak bellowed behind him. He looked at the Grandmaster who offered him a nod, silently allowing him to follow his old Padawan.

The Jedi Master ran out of the room and closed the door behind him. He could see Anakin hurriedly walking down the corridor and a gloved hand run across his hair. He knew he did that when something troubled him.

“Anakin!” He called after him and the Jedi stopped on his tracks. He looked back at his Master. The anger on his features was more than evident and, for a moment, it echoed through the Force and across their bond, making Obi-Wan flinch slightly. There was also so much distress and helplessness mixed into it. Anakin had been trying to hide it, but in a moment of distraction he showed it to him.

There was something very wrong with him. “Anakin,” he repeated as he reached his Padawan, “are you alright?”

Anakin frowned. “Yes.” A blatant lie, Obi-Wan knew. But he ignored it, for now. They began walking slowly across the hallway and settled in front of a large window that allowed a magnificent view of the cityscape. They both watched it for a moment and Obi-Wan could feel Anakin’s feelings bubbling within him. The boy had always felt _so much._ He was no ordinary Jedi; Obi-Wan felt a pang of regret and thought that maybe he should have been a better Master. He had never acknowledged those feelings and instead tried to encourage him to suppress them. He knew now that it was the wrong approach. Qui-Gon would have surely done so much better.

“I don’t understand.” Anakin broke the silence. “I don’t know what they want from me. What more can I do? They don’t trust me. They never have. I don’t know what I can do to earn it; for them to make me a Master.”

Obi-Wan wondered why he desired the rank so much. He was so young, barely even an adult. But on the other hand he knew he probably deserved it.

“You’re different.” Obi-Wan answered truthfully. “You feel things in a way none of us do. That scares them. They believe you aren’t mature enough.”

Anakin glared at his Master; Obi-Wan was used to it, so he ignored it. “But I trust you. I trust you unconditionally Anakin. I need you to know that.”

Skywalker’s features softened and he looked at the city again. Something was troubling him deeply and Obi-Wan could almost see his mind struggling, despite Anakin’s dire efforts to hide it.

Obi-Wan sighed. “I have a mission for you.” Anakin looked at him. “You must go to Mandalore and assist Ahsoka in capturing the Sith. Then you will interrogate him and find out what he knows.”

He couldn’t hide the panic that assaulted him. “What? No! I can’t leave! I’m not going!”

“You must, Anakin!”

“There are things I must do here! I can’t go! Please, don’t make me go, Master.” He was almost crying; Obi-Wan saw his eyes gloss over with unshed tears.

The Master sighed. “Anakin, do you trust me?”

Obi-Wan couldn’t deny the pain when he hesitated. But it didn’t matter. He could not stay. Anakin looked at him and he stopped for a moment. “Yes, but…”

“I feel a disturbance in the Force. And it is telling me that you are in grave danger if you stay. You have to go, Anakin. Please! I beg you! If you didn’t trust me before, trust me now.” Obi-Wan pleaded, hoping that, for once, he would listen to him.

Anakin had always been exceedingly stubborn. His tenacity often did him well, but now, it would possibly doom him. When he didn’t answer Obi-Wan continued. “Anakin, I love you. You’re my brother; almost my son. And the Force is telling me that you must go! It is telling me that if you stay something horrible will happen to you, to all of us.”

“You love me?” His tone was heartbreaking and Obi-Wan wondered why he had never told him sooner. And the fact that, out of everything he said, that was the part that he retained almost made him smile. He would have, if he didn’t feel so incredibly troubled. Obi-Wan put a hand on his Padawan’s back. “Master, I’ve been having dreams again. But if I tell you, you’ll tell the Council and they’ll just expel me.”

“What if I promise to keep your secret?”

Anakin observed him for a moment and he sighed but said nothing. Obi-Wan thought he needed more encouragement. “Is this about Padmé?”

The young man managed a smile and nodded. “We’re married. We’re having a baby.” And then the smile disappeared and was replaced by a deeply pained look. “I’ve been dreaming that she’s dying in childbirth. I need to find a way to save her.”

Obi-Wan was able to hide the surprise from his face. He had known for some time that they were together. But married and expecting a child? Anakin truly knew no boundaries. But this was not the time for reproach. “How can you save her if you don’t save yourself?”

Anakin chuckled but it quickly faded. “I don’t know what to do. I feel so helpless. I can’t let these dreams come true. I can’t lose her.”

“I’ll take care of her and your child. But you must go.”

“You promise?” His apprentice asked, and suddenly he looked like a little boy again.

“I promise.” Anakin hugged him; he hadn’t done it in so long. When he was younger and one of them felt miserable for whatever reason, he always did that and it had made Obi-Wan feel incredibly uncomfortable. But this time there was no discomfort. This time he didn’t want to let go; so he embraced his brother back as if it was the last time.

“Thank you.” Anakin whispered in his ear before it was time for them to part.

He watched as his Padawan turned to leave. “Anakin. Whatever happens here, don’t come back.”

The young man nodded. “May the Force be with you, Master.”

“May the Force be with you, Anakin.”


	2. The Rise Of The Sith Has Come

It was crammed inside the cockpit of the starfighter. Not his, that one had been destroyed beyond repair inside the _Invisible Hand,_ but a new one that he had taken from the Jedi Temple. This one was slower than his, yet it would have to do.

He’d been in there for far longer than he wished to, alone, with no one for company but his own thoughts. And they surely weren’t welcoming. He resisted the urge to fall asleep even though he was exhausted. But the prospect of suffering through those terrible nightmares again was just too frightening. He was sure that, if they repeated themselves, he would just turn back to Coruscant.

Anakin thought about his dreams; Padmé screaming, in pain, helpless, dying. It was so painful. He couldn’t go through it, not again, not after what had happened to his mother. He was sure he would die with her if those dreams were ever to come true; he would die of pain and a broken heart. And he couldn’t help but think of what would happen to their child; would he survive? Would he die even before he was born?

He took his hand to the console before him, but ultimately resisted the impulse of pulling his ship out of hyperspace and just go back to Padmé.

Obi-Wan had begged him to leave; he promised he would take care of her and their baby. Anakin had to trust him; he _had to._ He wondered why he hadn’t trust him before. He was sure Ahsoka knew his secret; he had entrusted the truth about his relationship with Padmé to Rex. But not to Obi-Wan. It had crossed his mind to tell him so many times, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Maybe he would betray his secret to the Council and Anakin wasn’t ready to give up his life as a Jedi. He had mused so many times on how Obi-Wan would hate him if he told him; on how it would shake their already fragile trust. But then he recalled their last conversation. He trusted him, unconditionally, he said. He loved him, like family.

Anakin suddenly felt stupid. Obi-Wan had raised him since he was a boy. Of course they hadn’t always gotten along; but what teenager and father did?

And then it struck him. He had hidden things from Obi-Wan like a boy throwing a temper tantrum.

Stupid, stupid indeed.

He left Padmé with family, their family. He was wary of leaving; but Obi-Wan’s promise made him feel a bit more at ease. She was in good hands. And that feeling his Master had, that something terrible would happen if he stayed in the capital; maybe his presence would be the catalyst to it, whatever it was. Maybe if he left, she’d be safe; his child would be safe.

And Obi-Wan would take care of them, wouldn’t he? He had promised, after all.

He wanted so badly to go back. But he said he wouldn’t. Regardless of what would happen. It wasn’t usual for his Master to say such things, to let himself be so troubled by such feelings, especially when they were so vague and uncertain. But the way he had spoken to him; the pleading look in his eyes, the pain in his features, almost physical. He couldn’t say no; the Force told him not to say no; to do as he was told.

But by the Force he wanted to go back so badly!

If only Padmé had agreed to come with him. Before leaving Anakin had gone there and found her in her penthouse. Lately she had been spending more time at home and away from the Senate. He could understand why. Hiding a pregnancy was not half as easy as hiding a marriage. But she had been buried in work nonetheless.

Anakin walked in silently and watched her as she sat lazily on the sofa, reading a datapad and carefully stroking her baby bump with her hand, oblivious to his presence.

Despite being in a hurry he took a moment to watch her. She was so beautiful; he could hardly believe she was actually his wife. Why that extraordinary woman had chosen him was beyond his comprehension. But he couldn’t care less about the explanation. She was his and he was hers and their baby would be so loved.

But then that dreadful dream crossed his mind and broke his daydream like a punch to the stomach. The mere thought of it was enough to bring the taste of bile to his mouth.

He had made his presence known to her and, as she looked up at him, her smile brightened like a ray of sunshine. He pleaded with her to come with him, even though he knew he was walking into danger. But at least she would be with him; he could have protected her from whatever harm would befall her. As always, however, she was adamant. There was an important meeting she would have to attend with the Chancellor and had been preparing for some time. Other Senators were working with her on it; she said it could bring back peace to the Republic. She looked so hopeful, so beautiful. Anakin knew there was no dissuading her. When Padmé Amidala set her mind on something, she did it, regardless of the cost.

It was one of the things that made her so extraordinary; it also made her incredibly infuriating.

Anakin settled on telling her that he loved her; that he loved her so very much. And he said goodbye. His eyes lingered on her, he took in her features; the line of her nose, the mole on her cheek, the color of her big bright eyes, how her hair cascaded down her back in perfect curls. He took it all in, all of her. She was so perfect, so flawless. He said goodbye and kissed her.

And then he left with his heart heavy. Fear crept into his heart like poison. If his dreams came true… if they did. What would he do? He could not think about it. No. Nothing would happen. Maybe it was his Master’s feeling. Perhaps all it took for her to be safe was for him to leave Coruscant. It had to be it, that’s what the Force was surely telling Obi-Wan. And Padmé would be safe. She had Obi-Wan to look after her. She’d be alright, wouldn’t she? She had to. He trusted his Master. He trusted him. He _had_ to trust him. Because he couldn’t leave, but he also couldn’t stay.

Anakin’s musings were interrupted by Artoo’s beeps who was tucked into the socket of the starfighter. He warned that they were fifteen minutes away from their destination.

At last he’d have something else to occupy his mind. But if was to be perfectly honest he wished Ahsoka had already captured Darth Maul by the time he arrived. He felt so tired; he really didn’t want to chase down that creep; and Ahsoka was perfectly capable of doing it herself. So if he could stick with the interrogation part, he’d be better off for it.

Soon he found himself setting his ship on a platform just outside the Sundari Royal Palace. He looked at his chrono. Padmé’s meeting was probably over. He should contact her as soon as he had a moment to spare. He wondered what Obi-Wan was doing and what was happening in the Council. Things had seemed tense the last time he was there. Or maybe he was the one who was tense. Anakin’s rejection by the Council was no surprise, but he couldn’t help but resenting them a little more.

If they gave him the rank of Master he could go in the Vault. Maybe there he’d find a way to save Padmé.

His cockpit slid open with a hiss, interrupting his thoughts. He heard Artoo jump from his socket and beep away across the ground and, as he left the starfighter he felt his knees cracking. He had been too many hours in there.

He saw her immediately, Ahsoka caught a glimpse of him and a sigh of relief escaped her lips as she started running towards his Master. It made Anakin smile; they had just been together the day before.

“Obi-Wan told me he’d sent someone to help me,” she said as she approached, “but he neglected to tell me it was you.”

“Only the Council knows I’m here. I don’t think this mission is on record.” He said and a strange sort of wariness crept into him. Why hadn’t he been told to go to Mandalore while the Council was in session? Was it just his Master’s premonition or was there more to it? But it was not time to think of the reasons of the Jedi Council. Force knew they were often impossible to understand. “Is everything alright? Where’s Maul?”

“I got him.” Ahsoka said and a smile formed on both their lips. “He’s ready for interrogation.”

“I was hoping you would. Good job Snips.” Anakin rested a hand on his former Padawans back. The way she had left the Jedi Order; it still pained him. It was hard describing how good it was to have her beside him again. If he didn’t have her what would he do? And then a feeling overwhelmed him; the sensation that everything was slipping through his fingers, like sand.

_Stay on the here and now, Anakin!_

He scolded himself.

“He is being prepared to leave. We should go back to the Venator. I fear we are already overstaying our welcome.” The Jedi Knight knew that. The deal was for the Republic forces to leave as soon as the battle was over and, as he looked around, he realized that it had been over for some time and the gunships were already prepared around them to take them away. Ahsoka had probably stalled to wait for his arrival.

“Of course.” Anakin looked at the entrance of the Palace and watched as Bo Katan and Rex walked in their direction from inside the Palace. Maul was secured in a box, his face was visible from behind a small glass window. It was inhuman treatment, but nothing that the Sith did not deserve. A wave of anger rushed through him as he looked at the red and black markings on his face and remembered that he had killed Qui-Gon; his friend, the man who freed him from slavery, the one who was supposed to be his Master.

“General. It’s good to see you, sir.” Rex said and saluted. Anakin gave him half a smile and he proceeded with the prisoner to one of the gunships.

“That’s an interesting contraption.” He told Bo Katan.

“It was designed to entrap your kind.” She watched as the Sith was settled into the ship. “Thank you, General, for giving us half your company.”

Anakin bowed his head. “Let’s just say you owe me one.” And she walked inside. It was time to leave.

The Jedi Knight ordered Artoo to take the starfighter to the Star Destroyer that awaited them in orbit as he entered the gunship with Ahsoka, the one where Rex was with the Sith. Anakin looked at him and he could swear a smile reached the twisted thing’s eyes as he looked at Anakin. He could feel the Dark Side emanating from him; but then again, lately, he could feel the Dark Side emanating from everything.

Their trip was silent. He could sense his former Padawan had something to say, but she probably wasn’t comfortable sharing whatever troubled him in front of the Sith. Rex, despite the success of the mission, carried a heavy countenance. There was something about the air around them that made everything seem so terribly bleak; one didn’t need to Force to feel it.

Anakin looked at the Sith again who made an imperceptible sound inside his sarcophagus. Was he laughing? He wasn’t sure, but whatever it was made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

It didn’t take long to reach the Venator-class Star Destroyer that was orbiting Mandalore. Rex took Maul to the detention area and, even though Anakin was supposed to interrogate him, he stayed behind with Ahsoka, watching them disappear through the blast doors of the hangar.

“What’s wrong?” Anakin asked as soon as the dejected Sith Lord was far enough away.

Ahsoka furrowed her eyebrows and he could sense distress coming from her through the Force. “He said things.” She hesitated, but finally looked into her Master’s eyes. “He spoke about Sidious; about how the time of the Jedi was over and the Republic would fall. The Sith Lord has some sort of plan in motion.”

Anakin nodded. It was no surprise though. The Sith had been trying to destroy the Jedi since the days of the old Jedi Order, since long before the rule of two. It didn’t necessarily mean they would succeed. But Ahsoka was not done speaking. “He also said that... Darth Sidious was grooming you to become his new apprentice and that he orchestrated the conflict on Mandalore to lure you in and kill you and thwart Sidious’ plan.” Her voice broke and Anakin’s breath was caught in his throat.

He remembered Obi-Wan’s words: _if you stay something horrible will happen to you, to all of us._

Was this it? Was that what he meant? It couldn’t be, could it?

No, it couldn’t. He wouldn’t allow it! Anakin could _not_ turn to the Dark Side. He wouldn’t. He was a Jedi; it was all he had ever wanted. He could never be a Sith. _Never!_

He scoffed, knowing he was lying to himself. “That’s ridiculous.”

“That’s what I said.” Ahsoka answered, but her tone was grave. Maybe she wasn’t so sure, perhaps she too was trying to deceive herself.

“Come on, let’s just talk to this guy.”

Anakin entered the cell alone. Ahsoka stayed outside, at the door. In case the Sith was able to escape, she knew what to do.

The Jedi waved a hand and, with the aid of the Force, the door of the sarcophagus opened, yet the Sith remained bound inside. Anakin removed just the one binder that covered his mouth. He didn’t need anything else to speak.

For all he cared he could rot in that box forever.

Anakin circled the box twice, slowly. He could feel Maul’s eyes following him. He reached out with the Force and was struck by the Dark Side, emanating from him like smoke from a fire; its ash clung onto the zabrak, tainting him.

He stopped in front him, so close he could almost feel the heat from his body. “I was told you wanted to see me.” He started, keeping his voice low. It was almost a hiss.

Darth Maul smiled. “Anakin Skywalker. Can you feel it, Jedi? The moment is upon us; the time for your demise and rebirth.” A mocking tone graced his voice. 

The Jedi Knight allowed himself a smile, but kept his gaze on the yellow orbs of the Sith. The smile, however, quickly faded as the zabrak spoke once more. “The time for the end of the Jedi has come. The time for _you_ to kill them has come. Our Master will have you in his clutches soon.”

“Who’s your Master?” Anakin asked and the Sith laughed.

“He moves in the shadows and in broad daylight. He is both known and unknown. I have only recently put the puzzle pieces together. But now I know and he is brilliant; the rise of the Sith has come. And you are the key, _Master Skywalker._ ” He spat the last two words, the derision in his voice was unmistakable.

Anakin felt anger build in the pit of his stomach, bubbling inside, waiting to be unleashed. He swallowed dry. “Who is he?”

The Sith cackled. “Oh, but you know him so well. He’s been petting you, telling how awfully wonderful you are for years and years. Making you more his own every passing day; for so long. Since the day I _killed_ Qui-Gon Jinn.”

“Don’t speak his name!” Anakin ordered, taking a step back and resisting the urge to stab his lightsaber through Maul’s heart. “Tell me who Darth Sidious is.”

“Search your feeling. You know who he is.” Maul closed his eyes, he could see him reach for the Force and the Dark Side engulfed him, as if it was instructing him on what to say. He looked at the Jedi again and a crooked smile appeared on his mouth. “After all, he has been watching your career with great interest.”

Anakin’s eyes widened and his heart suddenly started racing. He had heard that before. But where? There was only one person who said that; he had said it often. But it could not be.

_No. No. It can’t be. He’s my friend._

“Tell me his name.” He felt his jaw clenching and all the muscles in his body tense. The feeling he had in his stomach began rising and invaded his chest. “TELL ME!” He yelled and he raised his hand. As he did the Sith began grasping for air. If his hands were free he was sure he would clutch at his throat.

Anakin felt his legs tremble as this feeling embraced him wholly; and he watched the Sith squirm.

And he liked it.

But, even without air, Maul seemed like he was laughing at him; mocking him.

“Look at you... already…half way… there…” Darth Maul managed and suddenly Anakin let him go. He looked down at his gloved hand and he saw it shaking. He had allowed his anger to take hold of him, to control him.

Anger was the path to the Dark Side.

No! Was this happening? Had he allowed himself to be controlled by it? He looked back at the last years and he remembered all the times it had happened. When he killed the Tusken Raiders, when he thought Obi-Wan was dead, when he saw Clovis kiss Padmé, when Ahsoka was accused of betraying the Jedi.

“Supreme Chancellor Palpatine would be proud of his new young Apprentice.”

He was his friend. He had helped ever since he had come to Coruscant, leaving his mother behind. He had consoled him when he missed her and when the Jedi wronged him. He trusted him. He told him about the sand people, he had said it was only natural. But it wasn’t natural. It wasn’t. It was wrong and Anakin had always known it was. But he took his words and cherished him, they had been comforting. They’d made it easier to deal with the horrific nature of his actions. They’d excused him,

He had told him to kill Dooku, even though he was unarmed and wounded. He also said it was natural. But it was not the Jedi way.

That’s what he did. He always told him what he wanted to hear; always made himself understanding and available, regardless of what mistakes Anakin had made.

He _was_ grooming him.

Stupid! Stupid, stupid, stupid!

But he wouldn’t allow him to succeed. “What’s his plan?” Anakin asked and he could no longer hide the urgency in his voice. “How does he plan to destroy the Jedi?”

“Now you see the truth. At last.”

“Tell me the plan!” Anakin screamed once more, coming nearer to the Sith and setting his blue eyes on the dark side stricken ones of the Sith.

“I fear I was not privy to the details. But he will destroy them; and there is nothing any of you can do to stop him! He has already won!” The Sith laughed again and Anakin couldn’t take it anymore. With a wave of his hand the bound that had covered Maul’s mouth closed around it once more and the door to the vault closed and locked.

Anakin realized his heart was pounding so hard he could actually hear it and that his legs were trembling. He wiped his sweaty left palm on the fabric of his robes and turned around. He ran into the command center, passing by Ahsoka without even acknowledging her presence. He could feel her running after him and calling out for him.

“Master,” she said. “Master!” Anakin made no stop to answer her. There was no time. _He_ had no more time. It was coming, whatever Sidious was going to do, he knew it was coming.

He walked into the command center and realized it was filled with clones; with his men. The ones that had fought alongside him for years. But could he trust them? If the clones sided with the Jedi the Chancellor didn’t stand a chance. But if he had a plan, one that he had been concocting for so long, he was sure to have accounted for that.

No, Anakin was sure he could trust no one. No one but Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. “Leave us!” The soldiers all turned their heads to him. “I said leave us!”

“Yes, sir. Come on boys.” He didn’t look at the clone who spoke and, even though all their voices were the same, he knew it was Rex.

“Artoo, scramble a secure transmission to the Jedi Temple. I need to speak to Obi-Wan alone. And no one can hear it, not even the Republic. Then erase it from the records.”

“Anakin what’s wrong?” He heard Ahsoka next to him as loud as he could hear the air coming in and out of his lungs and his heart thumping in his chest. He looked at her but couldn’t speak. In the moment it took him to gather his thoughts Obi-Wan’s hologram appeared.

For some reason Anakin looked around him to make sure they were alone, even though he knew all the clones had left. “I’ve interrogated Maul and discovered the true identity of Darth Sidious.”

The Jedi looked into his Master’s eyes and he felt tears forming behind his own. He felt so betrayed. He had trusted him with his most inner deep secrets and now he could see it. He had always said just the right thing, he had even endeavored to plant distrust in the Jedi Council. Well, he had actually succeeded. And he almost was able to make him distrust his own Master. The man who had raised him, who had loved him since he was just a boy. The one who had taken care of him and taught him everything he knew.

He felt like an idiot!

“It’s Chancellor Palpatine, Master.”

“What?!” Obi-Wan’s voice came, incredulous, dumbstruck.

“He’s deceived us all, Master. He’s planning to destroy the Jedi. But I don’t know how. I’m coming back. We must confront him.”

“No! I’ve just received news that Master Windu killed General Grievous on Utapau. I’m on my way to the Senate. You can’t return. Remember what I said, Anakin. Whatever happens, you’re not to come back to Coruscant!” Obi-Wan pleaded again, like he had pleaded when they were in the Temple. Would that be the last time he would be with his Master?

“You need my help!” He tried. What would happen to Obi-Wan? And to Padmé? He should go back. But if he went, there were too many variables. Even minutes before he wasn’t able to control himself and he had touched the Dark Side. There were too many variables in Coruscant, he knew that and his Master knew it too. Anything could tip him over the edge. But Padmé, what was to be of Padmé? Could Obi-Wan protect her?

No, Anakin knew he could not go. And nothing pained him more than willingly abandoning everything and everyone he loved. All because he was weak; weak and foolish.

“I’m sure I do. Leave Mandalore now, Anakin.” The Jedi Master ordered.

Anakin looked at him, the Jedi Master’s expression was decided. There would be no convincing him. “And go where?”

“I don’t know. Anywhere, but keep that information to yourself. Anakin. If we fail, you are the last hope of the Jedi Order. You are the last hope of the Republic.”

Anakin’s heart dropped and suddenly he felt the defeat and the loss rushing through him. Maul was right, Sidious had already won and, somehow, Anakin knew it. But none of them had seen it.

They had all failed.

“Obi-Wan, don’t do anything stupid.” The blue hologram flickered and smiled at him.

“Goodbye, my friend!” His Master said and disappeared.


	3. It Was Not Time Yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, this chapter was HARD to write! For some reason it did not come out! But here it is, at last. Thank you, thank you all for your feedback! It makes me very happy! I hope you enjoy. It’s time for Obi-Wan to face Sidious!

Obi-Wan had always known that, somehow, Anakin Skywalker would be the death of him. He had told him that countless times, with that amusement that often colored their conversations. But, even though they had both laughed at it, he had always known it to be true. He’d known it since the moment his old Master made him promise he would train the boy.

However, he didn’t really mind. Dying as he protected the Chosen One from the clutches of the Dark Side was a good way to go; and dying as he protected his best friend, his brother, the boy he had raised, was certainly the _best_ way to go.

He was content with his fate; he accepted it. Force knows he would do anything for the boy. _His boy. His son._ Or at least the closest thing to a son that he would ever have.

He clutched the controls of his speeder as he hurriedly tried to bypass the infernal traffic of Coruscant on his trip to the Senate and he wondered if he was alright. The last time they had spoken Anakin was understandably shaken, but he was firmly steadied in the light.

It gave him chills to imagine what Sidious had planned. How long had he been planting the seed of the Dark Side in Anakin’s mind? They had been close for so many years and, even though Obi-Wan knew it was not right, that it went against every protocol of the Jedi Order, he had allowed that friendship to be formed and flourish over the years.

He was the Supreme Chancellor after all. What was he supposed to do? Call him and tell him he was forbidden to see his Padawan?

“Yes, that is what I should have done.” Obi-Wan found himself muttering under his breath. He should have barred his Padawan from speaking with that influential man; he should have wrapped a click of red tape around the boy.

But how was he to know that, behind the Supreme Chancellor’s façade, laid a Sith Lord; worse, a Sith Master?

Obi-Wan recalled his fight with Darth Maul. He had only just been able to beat him, by touching the Dark Side. He also mused on his confrontations with Count Dooku and they had been disastrous. He was no match for the apprentice; how would he ever beat the Master?

Yet Obi-Wan was not going to the Sith to win. He was going to buy time. He believed that Anakin was the Chosen One, he had actually been proven that he was on Mortis. So only Anakin could defeat Sidious; were he to take the entire Jedi Temple with, which was mostly empty of anyone over the age of ten years old, he would still be denied victory.

He couldn’t stifle a small chuckle as he thought that Darth Sidious had prophecy armor.

It was not funny, however. None of it was funny. None of it was remotely amusing. It was tragic, sad and a complete and utter disaster.

But as he travelled to what would probably be his death, he desperately needed _something_ to amuse him. He refused to die with a scowl on his face.

Obi-Wan just needed to last enough time for Anakin to be far enough away from Mandalore; preferably somewhere Sidious would not find him.

The boy was not ready yet. Too much anger clouded his judgment; it had ever since he had met him and it had worsened greatly after Ahsoka’s fiasco.

So much could go wrong if Anakin had returned to face the Sith now. Padmé was there, pregnant with his child, the Jedi Order on the verge of crumbling in some unknown manner that gave Obi-Wan shudders. And knowing Anakin, and he _knew_ Anakin, he would have done anything to save them, even if it meant joining the Sith.

No, he was too young still, too foolish. He was barely just a boy. Twenty-two years old. Force, when Obi-Wan was that age he was still a Padawan trailing behind his Master and learning, taking orders.

It had all been too soon. That blasted war ruined everything; even Anakin’s training, that should have lasted much longer.

And that boy, just grown from childhood, was going to be a father. A _father._

Obi-Wan hadn’t had time to stop at the Senator’s home. There had been too much to do. He felt like he was breaking his promise to Anakin of keeping her safe. He should have at least contacted her and warn her to go off-planet. But, in the urgency of the moment, he had neglected to do so.

Maybe there was still time to remedy it; he still had a few minutes. He had the Senator’s personal contact; she was a friend, after all. She had been for very long. He tried the first time and there was no answer. He tried the second time. By the third attempt the Senate Building was already in sight. So he left a message; maybe she would see it soon. “ _Leave Coruscant; it’s dangerous. Run; take care of my Padawan’s child. There’s no time to explain.”_

He parked his speeder on one of the many landing pads of the Senate; the one nearest to the Chancellor’s office. He had been there enough times to have the path carved in his memory.

_Though not as many as Anakin, you fool. How did you let it come to this?_

The thought shook him, but he could not dwell on the past. He remembered his Master’s words. Here and now. Here and now.

He repeated them like a mantra and he held his head high and walked inside.

Perhaps he should have a better plan. But he didn’t. He was all there was. He had left the remaining Jedi in the Temple and left a message on a secure Jedi channel warning them Palpatine was a Sith Lord.

_How ridiculous that sounded._

_And how ridiculous are you and the rest of you so-called Masters that had him right under your nose for thirteen years and didn’t have a clue?!_

Fools. Maybe Anakin was right. It hurt him to think of the Jedi Order as this deeply flawed institution. And, despite being Jedi, they were sentient beings and making mistakes was a natural part of life.

But this mistake? He knew the Force was clouded, he knew it. It had been so for many years. But had they blinded themselves by the unquestioning will to serve the Republic? By the will to serve a democracy that, apparently, no longer existed?

He remembered his old Padawan telling him that the High Council was becoming as corrupted as the Senate itself. That they had been disregarding the will of the Force, that they had been playing politics instead of fulfilling their role as Jedi, which was to decide what was best for the people and do it.

Not what was best for the Senate. Not what was best for the Republic. But what was best for the people.

_War is never best for the people._

And then he wondered who had put those words in Anakin’s mind and he concluded that it probably had been Darth Sidious himself. He had, after all, his trust. However misplaced it might have been.

The more Anakin distrusted the Council and the Order, the more likely he was to turn his back on the Jedi and succumb to the Dark Side.

 _A half truth is better than a lie._ Obi-Wan thought bitterly, musing that the Dark Lord of the Sith didn’t care for a moment what was best for the people. But that was not the point, was it? The point was that the Jedi _should_ care. And they had lost sight of it, somewhere along the way.

_He had lost sight of it. He was just as guilty as the rest of them._

How far had they lost their way! For the first time in his life, Obi-Wan Kenobi felt ashamed of himself. He felt ashamed of the Order he had so proudly served all his life; the Order that, foolishly and unknowingly, had been serving a Sith Lord for thirteen years.

Obi-Wan found himself at the Supreme Chancellor’s door. He took a deep breath and raised his shields as high as they could be raised. With a trembling hand, he knocked.

He was soon greeted by Palpatine’s secretary. Force, Darth Sidious had a secretary. How absurd!

The young woman, probably completely oblivious of her employer’s true nature, led him through the ante chamber, to Sidious’ door, opening it and remarking that the Supreme Chancellor had been expecting him.

If he had seen it all, it was all lost already, was it not?

Obi-Wan entered. He had never noticed before but now he delved into the Force and realized that the Dark Side clung to every wall like a magnet. Either knowledge had brought clarity within the Force, or Darth Sidious was no longer interested in concealing his true nature. He suspected it was the latter.

The Jedi Master heard the door hiss behind him and was faced with the Sith Lord, alone. He looked like Palpatine, but he wasn’t. Palpatine was nothing but a smokescreen.

He gave him a warm smile. “Master Kenobi, please sit.” The Sith gestured to the upholstered red chair across from his ostentatious desk. Obi-Wan took a seat. “I hope you are the bearer of good news.”

“Indeed.” The Jedi replied, bestowing his opponent a false smile of his own. “I have just received word that Master Windu defeated General Grievous. The war, your Excellency, is over.”

“Marvelous!” The Sith exclaimed, raising his hands as if in prayer to some God or other. His feigned delight only made Obi-Wan despise him further. He had eased his concealment in the Force. He knew he had been caught. And yet the charade continued. Obi-Wan Kenobi was not called _The Negotiator_ for no reason, however. As much as it cost him, he would play along. For now.

“Yes. At last you are free to unburden yourself, your Excellency. You may finally announce that you have no need for your emergency powers and the Senate can go back to work, for a change, before the day’s end.” Obi-Wan tried to add some amusement to his voice, but had a feeling it sounded only of condescension.

Sidious regarded the Jedi Master carefully and Obi-Wan could swear he saw a flicker of yellow cross his eyes. But it lasted for only a second and he returned to his customary grandfatherly countenance. “But, Master Kenobi, has the Confederacy of Independent Systems announced their unconditional surrender yet?”

Kenobi chuckled. “I’m afraid not. However, with their political and military leaders dead, I’m sure the rest of the Separatists Leaders are well aware that they have lost the war. Their surrender is inevitable, as we both know.”

The Sith released a worried sigh and Obi-Wan grew tired of the farce. It didn’t let it be known, however. Not yet. “Yes, but I’m afraid that, at such a pivotal moment, nothing can be left to chance. Are we truly sure we can assume their next move? Should we trust them to do the obvious, because, oftentimes, they have not.” He paused and thought. “Perhaps a Jedi should be sent to secure this surrender. I think Master Skywalker would be more than competent for the task.” He suggested and did nothing to hide his favoritism.

Obi-Wan Kenobi wished he could laugh in his face.

“Well, I’m sure he would be. But, at present, he is otherwise engaged.”

Darth Sidious hummed. “He is off-planet then? I was not aware he had been sent on a mission.”

The Master offered him a smile and waved him off. “It is merely Jedi affairs. You needn’t worry about such things.”

Palpatine, who was barely able to hide the frustration that crossed his features, gave him a worried looked. It echoed through the Force. It was contained, but unmistakable. “He is not in danger, I hope.” He then sighed and rose from his chair, turning his back on Obi-Wan and gazing upon the city. Surely pondering his next move. “I truly treasure that young man. He is a credit to your Order.”

“He is. I am very proud of him. He has become a great _Jedi Knight_.” Obi-Wan emphasized the last two words.

What they truly meant was much more than that. What they truly meant was: _He is not yours. He will never be yours._

“But, as I said. You must not worry. As a matter of fact his mission, although vital, is not dangerous at all. He was merely sent to interrogate a prisoner.” Obi-Wan knew that it was finally time to end the charade. He had grown tired of it anyway. His first message had been sent – Anakin will never belong to the Sith. But the other one he was sure would require a far more direct approach.

“Interesting.” Sidious said, carefully turning himself to face the Jedi Master once more.

“Quite.” Obi-Wan didn’t bother to smile. He burned his stare on the Sith’s eyes before continuing. “This prisoner was allegedly aware of the identity of a Sith Lord we have come to know as Darth Sidious. Count Dooku’s Master. Anakin was sent to uncover said identity.”

Sidious’ expression was blank, but his eyes said everything. A glass of yellow started covering his bright blue orbs; his true colors revealing themselves at last. And suddenly the Dark Side was obvious. It clung and surrounded him; flowing through him. Obi-Wan sensed his anger, his hate; its power was almost suffocating.

He did not have to speak to make himself unquestionably known.

“I would like to remind you, Darth Sidious, that there are several thousand Jedi across the Galaxy; and only one of you. With that said I suggest you resign your mandate as Supreme Chancellor and leave the Republic at once. For, sooner or later, you will fall at our hands.” Obi-Wan rose as he spoke, setting his hands on the desk. His eyes were unwavering, but he could feel the cold sweat on his palms and his heart thumping inside of his chest. The only thing that gave him just the slightest sense of peace was the knowledge that, at least for now, Anakin was safe. He was safe from the foulness that clung onto the Sith, from that blinding darkness that was capable of driving the sanest man to madness. He had never felt the Dark Side like he did now on the Chancellor. Not on Maul, not on Dooku. In the other Sith there had been more than that. Dooku was disillusioned, and despite the unfortunate choice of path, the intention behind it had been the same as it had been when he was a Jedi. Maul, there was hate within him, fabricated from years and years of torture and training in the Dark Side arts. But there was a man inside, a man that, in his own twisted way, had even loved his brother.

But Sidious; there was nothing in him. Nothing but the hate; nothing but the greed. No shred of love or sympathy. Only the blackest of hearts, the longing for power. And for that he was powerful. No ray of light could penetrate him. He loved nothing, no one. It was frightening.

And Obi-Wan understood how, in desperation, the raw power that he displayed by merely showing his presence, could be enticing.

Sidious narrowed his eyes. “Are you threatening me, Master Jedi?”

“It is not a threat. It is a promise.” An empty one, he was sure. There could be a million Jedi, but only Anakin would ever have the power to defeat him. He could see it now, understand it.

Anakin, he was the opposite of Sidious. In the Force, Sidious felt like a black hole that pulled everything around it in, consuming everything in its path. Anakin felt like a giant star, powerful enough to light an entire Galaxy. Powerful enough to bring life and beauty to all things; In the Force, Anakin was the most beautiful that had ever existed.

He knew it now; why the Sith wished so desperately to harvest that power. But what Sidious did not know was that it was folly. One day, regardless of what could happen, Anakin would defeat him. Obi-Wan was sure of it. He only needed time.

Sidious laughed. But it was no real laughter, it was a sound filled with contempt and hatred. “Then why not face me? Why not draw your weapon and cut me down if you are so certain the Jedi can defeat me, Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan looked around him, finally tearing his eyes from the Sith’s. He was certain the Chancellor _wanted_ him to attack him. But why?

_Be aware of your surroundings, Obi-Wan._

He called on the Force for clarity and it showed him the carefully installed security cameras. They had done their best to hide them. But the reflection of the setting sun on one of their lenses gave them away.

Obi-Wan regarded the Sith Lord once more. “So you can accuse the Jedi of attempting to assassinate you? Were you planning on revealing those carefully edited images to the Senate? Declare us traitors? Was that your plan, Darth Sidious?” He watched as the Sith’s brows furrowed in disgust. “I think not.” The Jedi continued. “If you wish to fight me, then I will allow you the first strike.”

Sidious growled and let out a rage filled scream. He reached out his hand and a wave of the Dark Side rushed from him, hitting Obi-Wan on the chest and throwing him to the back of the room. He landed close to the door, his back made a loud sound on the durasteel wall. He could also hear the sound of some of his ribs cracking under his skin.

Pain seared through him. But Obi-Wan, by now, was used to pain. He planted his hands on the floor and endeavored to stand. But before he could, he felt the lightning rushing through him. Burning him from the inside out. He could not stop himself from screaming, the pain was too much to endure in silence.

“You think you can defeat me, Master Kenobi? Don’t you see you have lost?” The Sith laughed and the lightning stopped. Obi-Wan got to his hands and knees. He could feel the sweat forming on his forehead. He could feel his hands shaking, still recovering from the remnants of the pain. He heard the familiar hiss of a lightsaber and he knew the pain could not stop him. He needed to stall for as long as he could. While the Dark Lord was busy fighting him, Anakin would be further and further away.

Obi-Wan sensed rather than saw the motion of the lightsaber coming in his direction. Sidious’ snarls accompanied it. He reached for his own, with a speed he did not know he was capable of, especially after what he had been through. He caught the red blade with his own just before it reached his face.

His ribs ached as he put all his strength behind his defense. He could feel the heat of the blades on his skin. He could smell the air around them scorching. He could hear the sound of the blades clashing, like thunder.

The Sith drew his weapon a little closer. For a moment Obi-Wan thought that was how he would die, on his knees, without even having the chance to take a swing of his own. He pushed back; a grunt came out of his lips.

In his mind he heard himself thinking. _The Force is with me, and I am one with the Force._

_The Force is with me, and I am one with the Force. The Force is with me, and I am one with the Force._

And his muscles moved without him willing them to. A swirl of his blade and he was free of the Sith’s fatal hold.

He got on his feet as Darth Sidious stepped back.

Obi-Wan Kenobi took his stance.

_The Force is with me, and I am one with the Force._

The Dark Lord had a sneer on his face when he lurched at him. His movements were so quick that they almost seemed invisible.

But the Force was with him, and he was one with the Force.

Every time the Sith attacked, Obi-Wan defended. Again and again and again and again. It did not matter how fast he was, the scarlet blade refused to meet the Jedi Master’s flesh. Obi-Wan hardly knew how he had been able to fend off the relentless assaults, they were coming, incessantly, unyielding, harsh. And the power behind them was nothing like Obi-Wan had ever seen. Not with Maul, not with Dooku.

That was the power of the Dark Side in its truest form. Unmerciful. Unforgiving.

But the Force was with him and he was one with the Force.

So the Jedi continued. He was tired, exhausted, but he continued. His lightsaber began slipping from his hands, his palms were sweaty from the strain. Maybe they were bleeding from holding on his weapon so tightly.

He should have been dead, he knew that. There was no logical reason for him not to be. Sidious was a far superior fighter; there was no discussion about it. His strength was unmatched and his technique complex and flawless.

But he was still alive and he still persisted.

A slash of the Sith’s blade ran through his cloak; but left him unscathed.

The Force was with him and he was one with the Force.

The Sith continued and continued. Kenobi knew he would not last much longer. But at least he would not die on his knees.

Sidious finally jumped back. Furiously he slashed through the window and it broke into a million pieces. It was almost dark outside.

How long had they been there?

Obi-Wan listened to the thrill of the city. The speeders running by, the people speaking, the security forces’ sirens. It was as it had always been. If only they knew that everything had changed.

The Sith released a laugh laced with something he did not recognize. Wonder?

Obi-Wan tightened his already steel grip on the hilt of his weapon.

“Well, I must say I am impressed Master Kenobi. This is the best duel I’ve had in – well – ever.” He laughed again, before his expression grew colder once more. “But I have no time to indulge, I’m afraid.” He raised his hand again and a flash of lightning flew off his fingers. Obi-Wan caught it with his sapphire blade.

It was vicious, even more than it had been when he had been struck by it before. The Sith screamed as he continued his brutal onslaught, pouring all his power into it; holding nothing back.

Obi-Wan felt the metal of his weapon heating in his hands. The energy was too much for his blade to absorb. He knew it would soon burn him. He began feeling the smell of burned flesh. It was painful, so painful. Not only the skin on his hands was ripping away, scorched. But all his muscles did too.

It was time. It was almost time.

But the Force was with him and he was one with the Force.

He drew nearer to Darth Sidious. The power he poured into the attack was taking its toll on him. Obi-Wan watched as his features deformed before his eyes; his skin looked like it was being melted; the corruption of the Dark Side was eating away at his flesh. His eyes glowed yellow, the blue that had been there before was now lost forever. It had been nothing but a farce, anyway. This was the Sith’s true form. Ugly and twisted.

Yet the Sith seemed unfazed. His flesh was decaying and he did not seem to care; he did not seem to feel it.

For he felt nothing. _Nothing._

The Lord of the Sith screamed louder, and, unimaginably, the strength of his attack increased momentarily.

And the Jedi Master could not contain it any longer. Involuntarily he screamed and the grip on his weapon released. Obi-Wan didn’t even watch it falling to the floor, for immediately the lightning struck him.

The pain was unbearable. He felt the cold floor on his cheek.

It was time.

Suddenly it stopped. But Obi-Wan had no strength left within him. So he just lay on the ground, struggling to even breathe.

_The Force is with me, and I am one with the Force._

He heard the Sith’s steps as he cackled.

Laughter, Obi-Wan had always seen it as something warm, joyful. He remembered. He and Anakin laughed a lot; sometimes until tears fell from their eyes. It was so contradictory that, in the moment before his demise, laughter would become something so cold.

He felt the Sith’s boot under him. It turned him around. Looking up Obi-Wan could see it. He carried a victorious look on his face. It was satisfied, sadistic. He had the Jedi’s lightsaber on his hand and ignited its blue blade.

Was he about to kill his with his own weapon? If it didn’t hurt so much against his broken ribs, Obi-Wan would have laughed. Not that ugly laugh like Sidious had. But an earnest one like he used to share with Anakin, whenever they tried to make light of a tragic situation. It was how they had both survived the war. Oh, how he missed him already.

The blue of the Jedi’s weapon gave a familiar hue to the room; Obi-Wan was acquainted with its hum. Every lightsaber sounded slightly different. His was unmistakable. It was a soothing sound. Thank the Force for small mercies.

The Sith sneered once more. “Very well, Master Kenobi. Very well indeed.” He heard the blade in motion. Obi-Wan closed his eyes. For some reason he did not want to see himself die.

A sharp pain pierced his right shoulder. Obi-Wan screamed again. He smelled his own burnt flesh.

Sidious had not killed him. But why? Why?

He twisted the blade. Another cry escaped his lips and he could feel the tears running down his temples.

“You needn’t worry, Master Kenobi. I will not kill you. Yet.” He heard the words but could not understand. Why not? _Why not?_

“W-why?” It was all he was able to croak before he heard a piercing laugh and the extinguishing of the lightsaber. He opened his eyes and saw the Sith basking in his triumph.

Suddenly, another wave of Force lightning struck him. Obi-Wan screamed one last time and the pain was too much to bear. He fell into unconsciousness.

It was not time yet.


	4. The Order Was Given

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter took a while. It was becoming a beast of a chapter. Too long to be just one. I don't want to bore you to death and make you sit for two hours straight to read one chapter! So I decided to divide it into several (not sure how many yet). It was hard to figure out where to cut it, but it seemed reasonable to do it like this. Forgive me though, for the cliffhanger.
> 
> And I want to thank everyone who commented, left kudos, subscribed, bookmarked and even just read! Thank you so much! I'm sorry I haven't responded to your comments, but truly I have had so little time on my hands! I'll try to reply to a few during the weekend.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

Ahsoka was not a Jedi anymore. She could safely say that the day that she closed her Padawan beads within her Master's hand was the hardest in her life. Harder than when she had been accused of attacking the Temple, harder than when she and Anakin watched Obi-Wan die before their eyes, harder than anything she had ever lived through. Not that her life had been long, she was still so young. But it had been eventful enough for a safe comparison.

It was not just the act of leaving everything she ever knew behind, but also the distraught look on Anakin's eyes; their deep shade of blue glazing over with unshed tears of sorrow and betrayal. She felt like she was killing a part of him. Maybe she was. But she did what she had to do; the only thing she could do.

And she missed him. Oh how she had missed him while she lived her life in the underbelly streets of Coruscant. How she had wished for his guidance time and time again when everything around her was strange and foreign, when she felt lost. When she discovered the real value of credits, when she realized that the Jedi were not regarded as the higher creatures they thought themselves to be.

But not only bad things came of it.

Now that she was not bound by the Jedi's strict rules, she could honestly and unashamedly declare that she loved her Master.

She loved him like the overprotective and occasionally overbearing big brother that he was; like the mentor he would always be. She loved him like the one person in the Galaxy she wished she could be like one day.

For so long she had been under his wing. He'd protected her and taught her everything she knew. They lived the most amazing adventures and stuck together through the most tragic circumstances. And her admiration was such that she thought he was perfect.

To her, Anakin Skywalker was the perfect Jedi Knight. Not by the Order's standards, obviously. But the Jedi Order and Ahsoka Tano differed greatly in many respects of their understanding of the Force.

But he was perfect in her eyes. He was courageous, kind, empathetic. He cared about every single life; he strived for perfection. His technique was flawless; his heart was large enough to fit the entire Galaxy. He had passion and determination.

And he was powerful! Force he was powerful!

When she had first become her Padawan she remembered the creation of their bond. Tiny, at first. But it had quickly grown, as did their fondness for each other. But even when it was still a tiny thread, the way his presence in the Force felt was nothing like she had ever experienced.

Anakin was an explosion of light and power; he was a beacon that called everything to him. He lit up her mind as if she had walked into a sun. But it was a soft feeling; it did not burn. It was warm and comforting and filled with so many emotions. Love, joy, hope. But also regret, guilt, sorrow and so many more she thought there weren't even enough words to name them all.

But then she had gone away. They had been separated by the flaws of an institution. The flaws that they both knew existed. But, courageous as he was, Anakin had not been brave enough to take the leap and turn his back on it.

She had spent quite some time away; while her bond with Anakin remained, over time it had dimmed and narrowed. And she missed the warmth of his light inside her mind, overflowing her senses.

But, while the separation had been painful, often distance and time also brought clarity. Sometimes she had found herself trying to but incapable of falling asleep and she couldn't help going through the years of her apprenticeship under her Master. It was inevitable, she supposed. Looking back, she could start clearly discerning his flaws.

They weren't crippling, by any means. But they existed. They didn't make her love or miss him any less, however. On the contrary, it made her understand that her Master was human and therefore more deserving and in need of her love. And that made her pain of leaving him behind cut even deeper.

But she could see now that her Master was prone to, sometimes, put his personal feelings ahead of the mission. It would most often than not work out for the better in the end. But sometimes it had severely endangered the mission. He didn't do it for just anyone though, only for the people he loved. Herself, Obi-Wan and, most importantly, for Padmé.

That was something else. Padmé. Ahsoka didn't consider herself to be a genius, at all. But she was quite sharp minded. She was well aware they had a relationship. The extent of it was unknown to her; but it certainly existed. It was obvious in the way they looked and spoke to and about each other.

They were quite clearly in love.

Ahsoka had never minded it; she had never considered it to be particularly dangerous. She had always been quite on the fence when it concerned the way the Jedi Order regarded attachments.

What bothered her were the lies. All the lies. The made up meditation retreats, the escapades from the Temple. She'd seen them and she knew Anakin was nowhere near the Temple; sometimes he wasn't even on Coruscant.

She could understand his reasons, but what she could not comprehend was the lack of trust in the people who, even though they would never speak the words, actually, and very obviously, loved him.

Would Obi-Wan feel betrayed like she did?

Perhaps. Though she knew that his love for his Padawan was so great that he would never admit it.

There was something else though. Something that deeply troubled her. She had not seen it many times, fortunately. But occasionally, when someone who Anakin loved was hurt he was inclined to having fits of rage.

She remembered when he choked a man with the Force when they had thought Obi-Wan had died. She would never forget the look in his eyes, so filled with anger, when she had been wrongly accused of the attack on the Temple. And when it came to Padmé it was the worst. Through their bond, occasionally, she had felt his jealousy, his possessiveness of her.

It were not his feelings that were wrong. Unlike what was preached by the Jedi Order, for Ahsoka, to feel was to be sentient. But to be sentient was also to have the ability of logical reasoning, something that occasionally had escaped her Master. So, what was truly wrong with Anakin was his utter inability to exert self-control and his willingness to be led by his emotions with no thought of consequence.

She had not seen it then, or maybe she just didn't want to see it. But she saw it now as she stood before him. And she could feel it. Through their bond the sense of conflict was overwhelming.

Ahsoka sensed the feeling of betrayal, she could understand it. She knew the Chancellor was one of his closest friends; closer than she could ever fathom. But there was more and Anakin could not contain it. The love, the will to do his duty and the heeding of his own sense of dread that was calling him back to the very place he could not go. The anger and the hate; the yearning for revenge was intertwined with a sense of injustice. He felt guilty, he felt ashamed, he felt hopeless.

And the fear. The fear was paralyzing. So much so that he broadcasted it to her painfully, with no regard for any of his shields. It was pouring out of him, like a glass of water under a tap that would not stop running.

He clutched the edges of the holotable so hard that his flesh knuckles had whitened and under his mechanical hand a small dent was forming. His jaw was steadied in place; his eyes watering and bloodshot. The circles under his eyes made him seem so much older than his years.

And she stood silent; as shocked as he and as Obi-Wan had been.

Suddenly a sense of dread overcame her. It had always been there, but it had worsened a thousand fold now that it had a face and a name.

Palpatine was Darth Sidious.

The most powerful man in the Galaxy was a Sith Lord. A man who controlled armies, followers, resources and political interests.

And Ahsoka understood Master Kenobi's request. This was not a conflict that would be won in one dramatic, all-encompassing duel. They were in this war for the long run. And Anakin Skywalker was in the dead center of it; one way or another and whether he liked it or not.

She saw as his emotions flashed through his eyes; thinking, deciding, looking at nowhere, searching the Force for answers. But it denied him the answers he sought; it denied him that comfort; because it was clouded and it was heavy with the Dark Side.

Anakin, too, was heavy with the Dark Side. It wanted him; it called on his hate, on his fear. It made Ahsoka wince and fear crept on to her too. Not for herself, but for him. For what could become of him. She would never allow it, even if she died trying.

Without moving, he finally spoke; his voice trembled slightly as he did, but to anyone who didn't know him better, it was imperceptible. "Artoo, set a course to Coruscant." His voice was hard and almost mechanical, so devoid of emotion that it seemed to be coming from someone else entirely and not that pit of feelings that was standing in the room with her.

The little droid rolled away beeping. And Ahsoka looked at her Master; her words lost on her tongue. Her fright worsened. She felt her hands trembling and, for a moment, the Galaxy seemed to be about to collapse around her and she was not able to stop the tear that formed on her eye to slide down her face.

"Why are you doing this, Master?" She asked of him and at last his eyes set on her.

* * *

Why? Why was he doing this? He knew he shouldn't. But he was. He looked at her; Ahsoka was crying, Anakin hadn't even noticed. Did she feel it too? Did the Force tell her that all the nine Sith hells were about to break loose? Did it show her they'd be crushed? Did it remind her that they had already lost a war they didn't even know they were fighting? Was that why she was crying?

Artoo beeped again questioningly. Anakin gave him a nod to continue with the task he had given him and the droid resumed his work. "I can't let Obi-Wan face a Sith Lord alone. I know what he said, but he needs help." He said. He wasn't sure why, but he did. That wasn't the truth. He knew it wasn't, but it seemed reasonable enough.

He watched as his Padawan – former Padawan – lifted her hand to wipe her tears. "You could at least have the decency to tell me the truth. Aren't you tired of lying, Anakin?"

He was. So very tired. But for so long he had trusted no one. He averted his eyes from Ahsoka. "We both know this has nothing to do with Master Kenobi. This is about Padmé. I know, Anakin."

"You don't understand…" he said. His voice had weakened. She didn't understand. It wasn't just Padmé. It was his child. It was his dreams. They were going to die. And Anakin was so afraid of losing her; of losing them. So, so afraid. His heart threatened to halt just at the thought. The mere prospect of it was so overwhelmingly terrifying that he could not stand it. He would do anything to stop it! Anything!

_That's why you can't go to them._

Palpatine wanted him; he knew he would be walking into the lion's den.

_That's why you can't go to them._

He closed his eyes, wishing the voice inside of his head to go away.

_The Dark Side wants you. The Dark Side will have you._

"I understand! I understand that, again, you are putting your own feelings above everything else. But I know Padmé. What would she tell you? The mission, Master! The mission always comes first!"

_Padmé won't tell you anything if she's dead!_

"But she'll die, Ahsoka. I've seen it happen in my dreams. I can't let her die. I can't let our baby die." And Anakin was so angry! Angry at Sidious, angry at Obi-Wan for making him leave, angry at himself for obeying! What was he thinking?

_You couldn't save your mother with the light. Maybe if you give in… Maybe. Maybe. Maybe…_

_But what would Padmé say? What would your Master say? What would your Padawan say?_

_Maybe… Sidious is powerful._

He put his hands on his head and grabbed two fistfuls of his hair, pulling it slightly. He wished those thoughts away. He wished it all away. All that was burning inside of him; all those terrible, awful things he was feeling. All of the fear that was making him go mad; just mad! Sidious wanted him. Why was he even considering this?

But he couldn't release them into the Force. He couldn't. He couldn't let go.

"Your baby?" Ahsoka asked. And Anakin looked at her again and nodded. He watched as Ahsoka closed her eyes and breathed in. Then her eyes stare settled on him like steel. "I can't begin to imagine what you are going through. But you can't let these feelings control you. Imagine what you could be sacrificing!"

Anakin couldn't stop the wave of anger that washed over him. Always the same accusation for as long as he had been in the Jedi Order.

_Your feelings control you. You feel too much, you fear too much, you love too much. Don't get attached. Let go, let go, let go, let go!_

"You sound just like them!" He said bitterly, just as the Venator jumped into hyperspace, finally taking them home. A home that, probably, would already be changed forever by the time they arrived.

Ahsoka's fists balled on her side as soon as she heard her Master speak and he saw it. Anakin immediately regretted it. He knew she didn't deserve it; she, of all people, wrongly accused of a heinous crime, expelled like a pariah, her name was dragged through the mud. She had devoted her life to the Jedi Order, and they thanked her by throwing her away like a piece of garbage.

Anakin's anger brewed inside him even further, just by the mere remembrance of it. But he could not bring himself to take his words back. If his former Padawan was somehow offended, she refused to voice it. "You really don't get it, do you? After all this time, you still don't understand." She said. Carefully Anakin regarded her, expecting to see what sort of revelation she thought she was bestowing upon him. "Though I may not agree with the way the Jedi Order does things, those things are not meaningless. None of us chose to be born with the Force, but we were. And that leaves us no choice but to learn how to control our emotions. Because, the power we wield, when left unchecked, can lead to the death and suffering of millions of beings. I'm not saying it is right to eliminate feelings by releasing them into the Force, nor that we should be banned from love and family and connections. But, whatever we do have, Master, we cannot leave to fate; we must live by our principles. We must live to serve a higher purpose, regardless of our feelings or the way we choose to explore them. For some releasing emotions into the Force might work, for others to act on those feelings is the best option. But at the end of the day, Master, when the moment comes, the Force must be our guide and we need to be willing to do anything to serve it, regardless of the cost. Because that is the price we pay for the rare privilege of being with the Force, of being able to feel it in all its beauty and glory. We are not average, we are not common, and, for that reason, we cannot pretend that we are and live like everybody else."

Anakin Skywalker was left silenced. How had his young Padawan had become like this? Wise beyond her years and certainly wiser than her Master. He had not thought of it, not like that. He never considered them, the reasons behind what seemed to him, at the time, only senseless demands form the Jedi Code. But she was right and it was so obvious. One had only to look around to see she was right, to realize what the Sith had done. He had only to think of the countless lives the Clone Wars had cost and would continue to cost, to the trail of death and havoc the Sith left behind wherever they passed, often translated in piles of dead bodies and betrayal.

Darth Sidious had been ready to destroy him and his entire family for an apprentice; for his own selfish reasons, to satisfy his interests, his lust for power.

Anakin's reasons were better, but was it not the same? Just moments ago he had considered it. What would he do then, even if he'd be able to save Padmé? What came next? Would he leave a trail of mayhem as well? How many people would he kill if it meant to save her? What would his path of destruction look like?

And, even if Padmé survived, what would she say? She wouldn't want to survive, not like that, not at that cost. She would hate him; she would never forgive him.

But if he went there; would he stop himself? Would he be able to? He knew the answer to his own question and understood why he had been sent away. Because he would do anything. And he needed to learn that not everything was acceptable. Anakin needed to learn that, despite the greatness of his love, there were limits to what he should do.

He was not ready, however. His emotions were erratic and confusing. He knew not what he felt; he knew not how to temper his feelings with the strength of his beliefs, his betrayed beliefs.

_Remember what happened when you lost your mother. You will do it again. You promised yourself you would not do it again._

The memories of the cries of the sandpeople invaded his mind.

"Turn this ship around, Anakin." Ahsoka's voice pleaded and he looked at her. He knew she was right. "Please."

He hesitated, for just a moment. Suddenly, a ripple through the Force struck him, before he had time to even consider giving the Order. Danger, overwhelming danger. He looked at his Padawan and her eyes widened. She had felt it too.

Abruptly something banged against the metal door. Three times it did. They both looked at it. The Force screamed louder.

"General Skywalker, open the door." The clone's voice came from outside. Rex's voice. His friend's voice. And with the danger came the pain that the clone was feeling. Anakin caught his breath in his throat and clenched his jaw.

He reached for his weapon. In a whisper he gave the only order he could give. "Artoo, close the blast doors." And his blade ignited for he knew that, for some yet unknown reason, he would be fighting his brothers in arms.

* * *

_Good soldiers follow orders._

That's the thought that came to Rex's mind when Darth Sidious' hologram flickered away into nothing.

He wondered how he knew that name. It didn't matter how or why, for good soldiers follow orders.

His hands grabbed the blasters at his hips, but not with the usual resolve. His fingers shook. But nonetheless, the orders were clear. Too clear. Too painful. And so very wrong. He knew it the moment he heard it, but could not stop the words of acknowledgment from slipping from his tongue or his body from transmitting the orders to his men.

Suddenly he felt he had lost himself. He was no longer Rex. He was CT-7567: obedient soldier, mindless machine, tool, murderer.

Unwillingly his wrist came closer to his mouth and he spoke into his comm, commanding all of the 501st. "Execute order 66. Capture General Skywalker, kill Commander Tano."

The order was given. The words had stumbled from him, like an automatic recording. Unwilling and unwelcome. He looked at the locked door that led to the bridge, they were alone inside. His legs moved without his consent and he stood in front of the metal barrier that separated him from the absolute loss of his humanity. He knocked thrice, hard. Reluctantly but relentlessly his voice spoke. "General Skywalker, open the door."

Why was he doing this? Why was he accepting of this monstrosity?

_Because good soldiers follow orders._

He remembered. Tup. Fives.

By the Force, Fives was right. He'd died for it, for the truth. He'd died trying to save all of his brothers' souls. And Rex had not listened; not hard enough. Not nearly hard enough. He should have taken the damned thing out; he should have dug deeper. But he didn't. He had filed a stupid complaint he knew would fall into deaf ears.

The remnants of him felt so incredibly betrayed. He was nothing but a slave serving the purpose of an evil man. What had it all meant? All the years he had spent fighting only to become, himself, a traitor to the Republic and serve the very thing he wished to destroy?

He didn't want to do it. He wanted to turn his back on the Chancellor and fight _with_ the Jedi! They'd been good, they were no traitors. They'd been dragged into that war as much as the clones.

But a loud voice in his mind told him that they were traitors; that his friends had turned his back on the Republic. And his Master, his slaver, ordered him to act on it. And he had no mind of his own. He was but an instrument.

Rex knew he could not stop himself. His mind was willing him to do this, to betray his closest friends, to commit a heinous act of treachery for the people who had risked their lives for him and his brothers too many times to count.

There was but one thing he could do before he did the deed. To warn them and to hope that they'd kill him before he pulled that trigger or led one of his closest friends into Darth Sidious clutches, certainly dooming him to unknown and endless pain.

So what was left of Rex knocked once more and was resolved to do the only thing he could to give his friends a chance: to give them knowledge. He opened his mouth to speak and he felt the sweat run down his forehead and drenching his back under his armor. He heard the blast doors closing from the inside. Good, that was good. Jedi always knew something was wrong before it happened. He opened his mouth to speak but the words would not come. They were stuck within him. It was painful to utter them, physically painful. But he could not lose himself completely. It was just a bit more effort, just a bit more, before his will was forever gone.

His voice trembled as he spoke. But he did it, he finally did it. "General, Fives! Remember Fives." He spoke, loud enough to be heard and knowing it would be understood.

The next words came not from Rex, but from CT-7567 and, unlike the last, they flowed from his tongue with ease and his free will was finally lost. "Get this door open!"

The order was given and good soldiers follow orders.


	5. No Hope

Her child grew restless within her womb, kicking and moving incessantly, to the point of causing her pain. Her back ached and her feet were swollen. Padmé felt incredibly tired. She had been having trouble sleeping for days.

Her husband's thrashing about as he faced his dreaded nightmares had kept her awake. The information that she might die in childbirth weighed heavily on her and on him as well. It was hard to believe, but, Anakin's nightmares usually came true and it was terrifying. He had seen nothing of the child though; there was still hope for him. She stroked her belly. "You'll be alright." She whispered to her unborn child. "Daddy will take good care of you and he will tell you how much I love you. You need to know that I love you, that I will love you forever."

Padmé Amidala was not afraid of death. But the thought of not watching her child grow was abysmal. But it didn't matter so long as he survived, so long as he was safe.

Maybe she had to die for him to live. A sacrifice she would gladly make without a moment's hesitation. There was nothing in the Galaxy that mattered more. She'd forfeit everything for her baby, for that life had not even come into the world yet but was already so loved.

And she knew Anakin would be an incredible father. She knew he'd love their child with everything he possessed, the he'd tend to his every need and that he'd protect him from anyone or anything that would wish him harm. He'd be safe and loved and that was all that mattered to Padmé.

For a moment she regretted refusing to know the gender of the child. She wished she could leave a message to Anakin with the baby's name. Luke for a boy and Leia for a girl. The light of her life. It filled her with sorrow that they had not even had time to discuss it. That they'd not lied down and talked about all the silly things, fought about names they associated with people they disliked, or about the unceremonious amounts of money she had been spending on clothes that would not fit for more than a month.

It was painful that they had been denied that. It was painful that they had been denied so many things. The ability to hold hands in public or share a kiss while someone watched, or the privilege of living under the same roof or just share a meal in her family's home.

She wished they hadn't hidden their marriage. She felt like a coward for lacking the courage of facing the consequences of their choice.

Anakin shouldn't be away. He should be there, with her, to hold her hand as she brought their child into the world, he should be there to help her with her swollen feet. He should have been there when she felt sick in the morning and held her hair as she emptied the meager contents of her stomach.

He should have been there for all of it. But he was there for nothing and now he was away again.

If only they had been truthful, how different would things have been? If both she and her husband had forfeited their careers for the benefit of their family, if they had been living by the Lake on Naboo, lying under the warm sun and on the soft plains of grass?

They were nothing but pipe dreams now and she could not help but feel that they had done everything wrong, that they had condemned themselves to whatever tragic fate would befall them.

The baby kicked once more. She took a hand to the spot where his little foot had been and gently caressed it. "Daddy will come back." She told the child, uncertain of being truthful.

But the absence of her husband was not all that weighed upon her. She had worried about the petition of the two thousand. It had been useless, she knew as she replayed the meeting in her mind. And not only had it been useless but, for some reason, she had a feeling that it had put her and her family in an even more precarious position.

There was something about the Chancellor as of late that made her distrust him. She'd felt more strongly about it ever since she had become pregnant and the feeling only increased as her child grew in her. She couldn't help but wonder why the baby always felt so restless whenever she was in the presence of him, moving so violently.

And, as dreadful as it was, she smiled. "Do you have the Force like your Daddy? Will you be strong and brave like him?" She knew he would and it filled her heart with hope. Hope for a better future, for a better Galaxy. It also filled her with worry. Would her child be in constant danger like his father? Would the weight of the future of the Galaxy lie upon his shoulders?

She forced herself from breaking away with the useless thoughts about a distant future, one she wasn't even sure she would get the chance to witness and decided it was time to give her attention to the present.

The petition was important. She wished her child to be born and grow up in a place that was just and peaceful. She didn't want him to fight wars like his parents, or live in fear or uncertainty.

But it was useless. Nothing would come of it. She knew Palpatine had no interest in peace. The longer the war lasted, the more power he gathered to himself, until the point of no return, until they all had to succumb to the absolute might of his will.

She rested her head on the back of her soft sofa and closed her eyes. The light of the setting sun warmed her face. Padmé only wanted to rest but, just as she was drifting into sleep, her comlink buzzed unapologetically.

Padmé groaned and ignored it, turning away from it and refusing to look at the damned thing. She knew it wasn't Anakin and he was the only person she wished to speak to at the moment.

It sounded for a few more seconds before it was finally silenced. Padmé sighed with relief, but it was short-lived, for it started over, annoyingly vibrating against the wooden table and spitting that monochord sound that she didn't want to hear at that moment.

She had decided to disregard it once more, but the baby kicked ferociously, harder than he had been kicking all day. "You want me to answer that little one?" She asked with a sigh.

Padmé lifted herself with difficulty. She was becoming less and less mobile as the final weeks of her pregnancy approached. The position to pick up the comlink was uncomfortable and it ached her shoulder and back as she reached for it. Looking at it she realized it was Master Kenobi. She clicked the button to answer but it was too late. He had ended the call. How odd it was, that Obi-Wan was calling her. It was most unusual. Suddenly her heart dropped.

"Anakin," she whispered to no one, a wave of panic started to get hold of her, "something happened to Anakin." She stroked her bump, as if reassuring her child and felt tears sting behind her eyes.

She lifted herself from the sofa and fiddled with the apparatus. It began buzzing in her hand again, but, at the same moment, the door to the living room burst open. She startled and the device dropped from her hand, the sound of its vibration was muffled by the soft carpet.

She looked at the arm of the couch where her blaster remained hidden at all times. But she had no time to reach it and only lifted her arms in surrender when several clone troopers moved towards her, blasters in hand, pointing straight at her.

The comlink stopped and beeped. Obi-Wan had left a message. She wanted to hear it, but could not. Her terror worsened. Was her husband dead? Why were the clones pointing their weapons at her? Would they shoot? Would they kill her baby?

She dropped her hands and protectively covered her belly. She had to protect her child, nothing else mattered. Nothing else. She filled her lungs with air and shook the tears from her eyes. "What is the meaning of this?" She asked using the same demanding tone she so often employed in the Senate, in a time when she thought her speeches still mattered.

"Senator Amidala. Your presence is requested. Please accompany us." The clone said matching his voice to hers.

"Certainly whoever wishes my presence could have used other means to summon me. Why are you setting your weapons on me? Am I under arrest? Have I been accused of committing a crime?" Her chin lifted, but her hands did not leave her child and he felt him moving under them and her heartbeat quickly accelerating. In her mind she wondered why would the clones turn against a Senator of the Republic? She could only fathom one cause. The petition? Was Palpatine finally taking action on those who opposed him? Was she a prisoner of war? And why was there no Jedi leading these clones? They could not have ordered this action, she was sure of it.

The clone took a step closer, clearly the ranking officer. "Senator, I would advise you to comply," his blaster rose a little higher as he paused, "for the sake of your child."

"Very well." She walked towards the clones, knowing there was no other choice. She was alone, unarmed and outnumbered. Her security was nowhere to be seen.

_If only Anakin was there._

She walked ahead of them and she could feel the barrels of their weapons set upon her back. Her mind raced as fast as her heart. She was terrified. But she would not show it and kept her pace steady and her head held high.

They walked through the corridors and she saw Captain Typho and his men's dead bodies scattered across the floors. It took all of her willpower not to kneel down, cry and embrace her lost friends. They had their blasters holstered, they'd been snuck upon from behind.

Cowards!

Senator Amidala was led into a transport and it quickly started heading to whatever destination they had. It had no windows, she could not see where the clones were taking her.

But her curiosity was soon sated, for their trip was short. She left the transport as the blasters remained trained on her. They were in the Senate, but this was not the main entrance. This entrance led to a lower level of the building and it was hidden from the street view.

One clone grabbed her by the arm and began leading her through the corridors, into a turbolift that clearly was going further down into the deepest levels of the building of democracy.

Then it stopped and the doors opened. It was the detention level. She'd never been there before but knew of its existence.

Quietly she allowed herself to be led into a cell, just at the beginning of the corridor that was lined with the tiny compartments on both sides. The walls and ceilings were a soft grey, like the rest of the building. But there were no luxurious chairs or desks and no statues of heroes past. Only a bench carved in metal. She sat herself, her back so straight that it hurt; she felt her spine being pulled forward by the growing weight of her belly.

Padmé watched as the ray shield rose on the entrance, giving the room a reddish hue. The clone troopers looked at her for a moment and then left her alone with her thoughts. They were panicked and grief stricken. She couldn't stop herself from wondering what was the content of Obi-Wan's message. And she couldn't stop herself from fearing the worst. Was Anakin dead? What would she do without him? If she died, who would take care of her child? Would her baby survive or would her entire family be decimated?

She couldn't stop herself from crying. She heard as the sobs came out of her from her lips and felt the hot, salty tears streaming down her cheek. She was alone, she could cry now. Padmé could now mourn for all that she was about to lose. And mourn she did, the grief over the unknown events was overwhelming and her baby moved violently inside of her, it felt like he was crying to.

Padmé caressed her belly as the tears ran down her face, soothing her child, whispering that everything would be alright, that his father would be alright, that he would be alright.

But she knew nothing was alright. Everything was wrong, everything was hopeless.

Hours went by, alone with her grief and with her desolation she sat, lying to her baby, hoping that, even though he might never be born, he would know of the immense love she felt for him.

Then she heard a door open, the sound of its hydraulics was unmistakable. Padmé dried her tears as stifled her cries, almost automatically she was Padmé Amidala, Senator of the Republic. She stood, straightened her back and held her head high again. She approached the ray shield and tried to look towards the entrance of the detention center, but her angle was poor and she could see nothing.

She heard the sound of something being dragged, it was like leather against metal, accompanied by the loud thumps of boots hitting the floor. Soon the source of the sound revealed itself to her. On the other side of the ray shield two members of the Chancellor's Red Guard brought in an unconscious Obi-Wan Kenobi, each one grabbing an arm. His head was down and his feet dragged across the floor.

"Obi-Wan!" She called out. He did not as much as flinch. She covered her mouth with her hands and was not able to suppress the sob that came out. Tears began flowing down her cheeks again, she couldn't help it, she couldn't be the Senator anymore. She was just a woman, in chains, the love of her life lost to her, one of her best friends being dragged and imprisoned by the very people who were supposed to serve the Republic that he held so dear.

They continued to drag him until he was lost from her sight. In the distance she heard a loud thump and the engaging of another ray shield.

The Red Guard soon left.

Padmé was alone with her tears once more and, for the first time in her life, she found no hope within her.

* * *

Darth Sidious watched as his red clad guards dragged Obi-Wan Kenobi's unconscious body out of his office. To kill the Jedi now would be premature; so he'd remain in chains, for the time being. Hopefully, he would be useful, one way or another.

His plans had gone awry. This was not how he had foreseen events to come to fruition. But the Dark Side of the Force was a powerful ally and, somehow, things would rectify themselves.

He looked down at his chair. Pieces of broken glass were scattered upon it. Darth Sidious brushed them away with his hand and sat down. He took the datapad from his desk, the screen was broken at the right upper corner, but it was still fully functional.

In the silence provided by solitude he accessed the security footage that had recorded the events that had just transpired in his office. Right after he had bested Kenobi he had activated Operation Knightfall. It could not be helped now that the Jedi had knowledge of his true identity.

As he sat quietly, the ultimate decimation of the Jedi Order was finally occurring.

The Sith had been living in the shadows for a millennia and now, at last, the time had come for their rise to power.

It was an added satisfaction to know that the first Galactic Empire would be his.

Did that make him the most powerful Sith Lord who had ever lived? Yes, absolutely yes!

His lips curled up at the corners in a triumphant smile. But his victory had not been complete. Skywalker had left Coruscant without his knowledge, Obi-Wan Kenobi had not attacked him and he lacked proof for the Senate of his unfortunate assassination attempt.

So, as of that moment, even though the Jedi were already being put to the slaughter he lacked two key elements of his plan. An apprentice and a motive.

He needed both.

Palpatine was not naïve, he was sure he had been born without a trace of that particular trait. He knew he could not maintain power over a Galaxy so large without an enforcer that stood by him. One that was strong with the Force.

He wanted Skywalker to fill in that role for a number of reasons. The first was his raw and powerful connection to the Force, unlike anything he had ever seen. He knew he would have trouble defeating the boy, if ever the time came for it, so why not have him by his side, succumbing to his bidding?

The second reason was far more entertaining. To have the Chosen One of the Jedi turn to the Dark Side was just too fun to not contemplate. Not only would he squash their lives, he would eliminate any shred of hope that could ever remain. It was like destroying the foul things over and over again. Sidious anticipated what it would feel like every time Anakin knelt at his feet. Wouldn't it be like burning the Jedi Temple every single day? Like putting his finger on a festering wound?

He knew most of them would be dead by then. But still, still it was just too enticing. The Jedi, the self-righteous bastards who had withheld the Sith from power for so long, deprived of all hope by their greatest warrior.

Alas, he had no idea where the boy was. Last he heard of him he had left Mandalore and was on hyperspace on route to some unknown location he had shared with no one but that little apprentice of his.

He'd worked so hard to get rid of her, only for her to meddle once more.

But it was of no use. He'd ordered Commander Rex to capture him and end the Padawan once and for all. Hopefully he'd succeed. Though his search of the Force provided him no answer of the future. He had been so certain of Skywalker's fall and now he was blind as to the boy's fate.

Soon, it would become known. One way or the other and whatever happened he would make due. After all, Sidious was nothing if not resourceful.

Then there was the other issue. He reviewed the security footage once more. Nothing in it indicated that the Jedi wished him harm. In the end, he attacked first. It was useless. He deleted the whole thing and tossed the datapad aside.

An opportunity had been wasted, but another one would surely come along.

Sidious sat back and drew a sharp breath. He called upon the Force for answers but none came. He needed to think fast, lest everything he had worked for be lost.

It did not take long for several ideas to spring to mind. Sidious took his comlink and the small hologram sprung to life. He was now deep inside the Jedi Temple. He saw a flash of a lightsaber on the corner of the image, only to be quelled by a barrage of blaster fire. He could not help the satisfaction that swelled within him.

"My Lord." The clone uttered breathlessly.

"Captain Appo, capture a handful of Jedi younglings alive and bring them to me discretely."

"Yes, my Lord." The clone replied with a nod and Sidious interrupted the communications.

He gathered the discarded datapad in his hand once more. He selected the files that followed Kenobi's path from his entry in the Senate building right into his office's door. The secretary opened the door and smiled at the Jedi. From there on out, he destroyed the footage.

Sidious stood and walked from his office. Lile was in the antechamber still. Her face was stained with tears as she sat on the corner hugging her knees. Poor oblivious girl.

"My dear. Are you well?" The secretary looked at him and saw his disfigured features for the first time. A flash of terror caught her eyes. Sidious gave her a warm smile and reached out his arms. "Come, child." He said and she reluctantly stood and walked towards the apparently harmless man she had been working for over that last five years of her life. He set his arm around her shoulder and began walking with her towards the door. Lile uttered no words. "You mustn't worry child. The Jedi committed a terrible crime against me and the Republic, but soon it will all be rectified."

A sob escaped her lips. "Did that Jedi did this to you?" she asked and she allowed herself to be guided to the door. The Sith stood by it and put his back to the door that led to the corridor. He held her at arms' length.

"Yes, my dear." He said and smiled again. "Stay right there."

Lile did as she was told and stayed right there, unknowingly facing a Sith Lord. Sidious wondered, did she even know what a Sith Lord was? "But how did you defeat him then? No one else entered and your guards..."

"Oh, that's a story for another time." He said, keeping his voice warm. Then he looked at her. Holding her shoulders again he moved her one step to the right, to angle her seamlessly with the door. "Perfect." He declared with a grin. Then Darth Sidious reached for the weapon hidden within his sleeve and slashed through her, her body fell limply onto the floor, devoid of any life, ultimately abandoned by the Force. She did not even make a sound.

Sidious opened the door behind him. Mas Amedda and his two loyal guards stood there waiting. He nodded them inside and took them to his office, stepping over poor Lile's body, leaving it undisturbed, as it should be. Upon entrance of his personal work chambers the guards took their places. Without hesitation the Sith ran his blade through them. A shame really, they had been loyal servants. But it had to be done, if Kenobi was to be faulted for the treachery of the Jedi Order.

He gazed upon his loyal servant at last. Mas Amedda's features gave nothing away, but his terror in the Force was unmistakable. Darth Sidious relished in the feeling. But there was only one thing more powerful than fear: greed. And his loyal advisor had plenty to spare.

"Are Senator Amidala and Master Kenobi secure?" he asked only to be answered by a nod of the Chagrian's horned head. "Good." Sidious said and then paused. "Can't you see, my friend? I am injured. You must call for help." Sidious continued and the advisor soon picked up his comlink and spoke into it, but the Sith didn't bother to listen.

The Sith took up his arms and reached into the Force, manipulating it to his bidding. The noise of the security cameras being crushed under its weight came all at once, emanating from both the office and the antechamber.

Then with a smile Sidious walked towards the broken window and sat on the floor, taking his position.

A poor old wounded man he was, waiting helplessly for help. Alive only by sheer luck for he had managed to, somehow, push the Jedi down the broken window. His will relentless even in the face of certain death.

The people would love him. And one day, the people would fear him.

Soon he could see the blazes of flames and the clouds of smoke escaping from the spires of the Jedi Temple.

Darth Sidious had won, at last.


	6. Fighting One More Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I actually updating?! Yes, I am! Unbelievable, right? I'm sorry for the long wait, real life is like that. I hope you enjoy and leave your comment even though this chapter is not exactly what I wanted it to be and I seem to be stuck on Order 66 for far too long (and it's not even over yet). But one must move forward! Alright, I'll let you read now. Please enjoy!

The memories of Fives' final moments assaulted Anakin's mind like a shockwave. And suddenly, it all made sense.

And Anakin had not listened, he had believed in the cause he was fighting for so blindly that he did not listen. It all made sense now; that was the plan all along. To destroy the Jedi by having them lead the men who would eventually betray them.

The men that they had created and enslaved like working animals… Worse! For animals were often loved by their owners.

How depraved it was, to install a mind control device within a living, breathing person. To use them like they were droids, to make them do their Master's bidding without even realizing what was happening to them? To strip millions of men of their free will, of their feelings, of their freedom.

But they had never been free. Anakin realized it. They had always been slaves, willing slaves to be sure, but slaves nonetheless, for their willingness was nothing but a farce, bred into them since their unnatural births, pinned into their fabricated DNA, making them compliant, obedient, blind.

Yes, clones were nothing but slaves.

Like he had been, so long ago…

And the only fate worse than living in chains, was to do so unknowingly.

He felt disgusted with himself; he, who not long ago had been proud of leading those men, felt nothing but shame. He was nothing but a slaver, he was nothing but a pawn.

How had the Republic, self-entitled paragon of democracy and freedom, had come to that? How had the Jedi, righteous protectors of said democracy and freedom, allowed it to happen?

They should have decommissioned that army the moment they found it.

But their despair to maintain the Republic's borders intact was too great. And they became the very thing they endeavored to destroy. And the Jedi's panic of suddenly, after a thousand years, being faced with the Sith once more, had robbed them of their clarity. It had taken away their principles and they had become lost. Gone astray like frightened children who lost sight of their mother.

The Republic survived. Yet at what cost?

The loud metallic thud that echoed on the other side of the door woke him from his musings. He looked first at Ahsoka, his bright young Padawan. The confusion etched across her eyes was evident. She looked to him, searching for guidance. Guidance he was not sure he could provide.

"Master? I don't understand…" Anakin smiled faintly despite himself. He was not her Master, he hadn't been for long. But to think that was still how she regarded him warmed his heart. His smile soon faded as he realized he needed to offer her an explanation.

"Fives discovered a conspiracy to destroy the Jedi. Inhibitor chips were placed in the clones' brains that make them blindly follow certain orders. And I…" Anakin stopped speaking, loathing himself. He had had the power to stop this; he could have, if only he had not believed the Chancellor so blindly. If he had thought clearly, if he had searched the Force for answers, he would have investigated it, looked into it and stopped it. But he didn't. "I didn't believe him. I thought he had gone mad."

Anakin looked at his feet, incapable of facing his young apprentice. Maybe if she had been there she would have convinced him to believe. She had always been the wisest among them, despite her youth.

They heard another bang on the door and the locking system being tampered with. They couldn't blast their way in, but eventually they'd be inside. And once they were, they would be dead.

"We need to get out of here." Ahsoka said. Her Master looked at her as she surveyed the room, searching for a way out.

He eyed the ventilation system. He couldn't fit in there, but Ahsoka could. Maybe at least one of them could be saved. He reached out his hand and the hatch opened. "Go!" He ordered and felt his heart pounding in his chest.

The Jedi Knight watched as young Ahsoka's eyes widened in realization. He was going to sacrifice himself for her. That was the plan, the first one that crossed his mind. The only one. He couldn't let her die, he couldn't let them kill her. He did not know how, but Ahsoka would leave that ship alive, even if it was the last thing he did with his wretched life.

"Not without you, Master!" She spoke with a sweetness that did not match the hardness in her eyes.

"You have to." Anakin answered, finally letting his eyes off of her face and springing into action. There was no possibility of leaving the ship if it was still in hyperspace. He ran across the room towards the hyperdrive console. It was dangerous to leave hyperspace in the middle of a pre-established route; they could easily crash into a planet, a star or even end up next to a black hole that would pull them in. But there was no other choice.

Anakin pulled the hyperspace lever, yet it did not respond. "They disabled the bridge controls!" He heard Ahsoka's voice behind him. All traces of panic had gone from it, just like he had taught her.

_Stay in the here and now, Padawan. Don't let your emotions cloud your judgment. If faced with an impossible situation, the Force will be your guide; calm your mind and trust the Force, for it will give you all the guidance you need._

He remembered all the times he had uttered those words. If only he could follow his own advice.

Reaching to the Force he struggled to soothe his troubled thoughts. "You have to disable the hyperdrive, or else we don't stand a chance of getting out of here. I'll hold them off and we'll meet at the hangar." Anakin said as a better solution formed in his mind, even though he would still lay down his life if need be.

Ahsoka nodded and jumped into the ventilation system, Anakin closed the hatch behind her.

The Jedi Knight faced the door and drew his weapon, igniting it. Artoo beeped courageously and stood beside him. "Yes Artoo, we stand together, even if it's the last time." The droid beeped again and Anakin took another look at him. "It was a pleasure serving with you too, old friend."

Anakin faced the doors again, steeling his heels on the ground and holding the hilt of his lightsaber a little tighter. The metal creaked and the door began budging in; the sparks of the cutting equipment began forming a hole on it. It was just a matter of minutes now.

The Force screamed in his mind only a moment before the door broke open. Dozens of clone troopers stood behind it, but before the barrage of blast fire could be unleashed, Anakin called on the Force and reached out his hand. The clones went flying behind; as if they'd been hit by a rock and Anakin ran with the all too human droid at his heels.

The trek through the corridor was quick; Anakin reached the next door, blasted shut; he could feel the clones that he had knocked down recovered and were fast on his track and the Force told him that there were more behind the door. They were surrounded. "Artoo, whatever happens, you need to get to the hangar to help Ahsoka." Hesitantly the droid beeped his agreement.

With a wave of his hand the doors opened, and, as expected, the Jedi was greeted with dozens of clone troopers, this time there was no chance of avoiding for the blast bolts immediately flew at him.

His own men were firing at him.

Anakin blocked the barrage of blaster fire and fought his way through the army he was facing on his own as best as he could, but there were just too many of them and every time he took the life of one of his comrades in arms, the Force screamed and his heart ached.

It was a small satisfaction as he watched Artoo slide in between the clones and disappear into the corridors of the ship.

_Good droid._

At least Ahsoka wouldn't be alone.

Suddenly Anakin felt the coldness of a blaster barrel on the back of his head. "It's over General." The voice was familiar, too familiar. The clones all had the same voice; but he could always tell Rex's apart from the others. They had been friends for a very long time. A friendship he had believed would last forever; a friendship between two men who had faced death side by side countless times. It made it all the more painful.

Anakin put his hands above his head and looked around. It seemed that Rex had diverted most of the clone forces to their location; that was good. Perhaps Ahsoka would find a free path to the hyperdrive.

"Are you going to execute me Rex?" He asked as a clone took his lightsaber from between his fingers and handed it to his commander. All blasters were pointed at him; at that moment, he had no possible escape. But maybe he had given her enough time, perhaps he could stall them a little longer.

"No, sir." He felt gloved hands grab his wrists and pinning them behind his back. The cold metal of the handcuffs pinched at his flesh hand and tugged at his gloved one. "You are under arrest, sir."

For some reason Anakin was not surprised; it seemed Palpatine had not abandoned his plot to make him his new apprentice. As for Ahsoka, he was sure the conniving Sith had another fate planned for her.

And for a moment Anakin was jealous for he was certain that the lot the Sith Lord had aligned for him was worse than death.

But Sidious had something else other than an apprentice coming his way, and Ahsoka was on her way out.

Despite his resolve, however, the Jedi doubted himself. If he were to meet Sidious, if he were to be tempted, would he resist or would he let himself be led by the Dark Side? He could not imagine why, but he knew, he had known for long that the darkness was within him. It was there all the time. The slaughter of the Tusken Raiders came to mind once more. It had haunted him for so long, and Anakin had never forgiven himself.

He imagined what was it that could have turned him, what was the thing that would tip him over the edge. He did not have to think too strongly about it when as he recalled the nightmares that had been haunting him for the last few days. Padmé, dying, screaming out his name in pain. He would do anything to save her, he would kill whoever crossed his path, he would give in to anger, and hopelessness and despair.

She would have hated it, she would have hated him. But he would.

Anakin Skywalker knew what it took for him to fall. But he desperately wished he could escape that fate.

The Knight let himself be led through the ship's corridors by his most loyal soldier and his own men. Shackled, lost, beaten, knowing he was being led to his doom and aware that he was utterly unprepared.

* * *

Ahsoka moved silently through the constrict tunnels of the ventilation system. She had done this more times than she could count, and, growing up a soldier and living in ships like that one, she knew its layout like the palm of her hands.

But, even though she often ran for her life, it were not usually her friends who were trying to rob it from her.

She halted her movement as soon as she heard the blast doors from the bridge being open. Despite knowing she shouldn't, that every second was precious, Ahsoka couldn't stop the urge to look back. Soon she heard the blast fire and the hissing of a lightsaber. But it lasted no more than a few seconds. Her heart dropped, it was not possible for her Master to be lost without no more than a minute of fighting. He was more stubborn than that. Hands trembling and fearing what she might find, Ahsoka reached out into the Force.

And there she found him, his presence shining as bright as it always did, like a sun. She scarcely remembered a time when she had been more relieved.

The young Togruta resumed her path, she knew what lay ahead. She knew where to turn and where to go. But something told her that the hyperdrive was not the place where she needed to be. Reaching the fork in the tunnels she closed her eyes. The sounds of the engines running were soothing, but she could not hear the familiar laughter of the men who had fought beside her, she could not hear them calling out for her military rank with their unique accents; all the same, all so different. All she could listen to were the alarms blaring, the noise of the footsteps of the men who were now hunting her.

And the terrible, deafening silence of the Force.

_Trust the Force Ahsoka; follow the will of the Force Padawan. The Force will never fail you, the Force will always guide you._

She heard her Master's voice whisper in her ears and delved into the Force and suddenly the silence broke. It was screaming, as if someone was ripping its heart out. She could sense the distant cries, she could feel its lights fading and dying one by one. It was painful, it was horrid. She felt tears slide down her cheeks, but asked the Force for guidance.

It gave it to her; through its pain it still guided her. So, at that moment, she chose her path and it was the opposite of the place her Master had told her to go. But it did not matter, she needed the Force and the Force needed her, for, somehow, she knew, that its children were dead.

* * *

Anakin heard the ray shields activate on his cell; a prisoner in his own ship.

Hoping against hope that Ahsoka was managing to reach the hyperdrive he sat himself.

It had not been long since the clones turned against them, but it seemed like an eternity ago. Mere minutes almost turned into what seemed to be centuries. The Knight had risen up his shields like a duracreete wall. He was so afraid, afraid of knowing, afraid of understanding.

But now, that he was engulfed in silence, he could not run from the Force anymore, for it followed him every step he took, like his own shadow.

So Anakin closed his eyes and lowered his defenses and suddenly it all came rushing at him with an intensity that almost knocked the wind out of him.

It was dark, so dark. Pitch-darkness surrounded him, the wails of Jedi all across the Galaxy were so loud it made his head spin. Frantically he searched for Obi-Wan, everywhere. And soon he found him, a dwindling candle in a sea of black. Weak, in pain, but there.

He searched for Padmé but could not find her. She didn't have the Force and the Force had never been like it was then; it had been clouded and ambiguous. But now, now it was as if it was empty of everything but pain and to search for someone who did not have it seemed like an impossible task.

But Obi-Wan was still alive, barely, he could sense his signature, distant and weak, almost hidden, but there. And he had promised to keep her safe, he had promised. And there was nothing left for Anakin but hope that he had kept his promise.

"Obi-Wan always keeps his promises." He reminded himself.

The Knight opened his eyes, the pain in the Force had clung itself onto him and, even as he raised his shields again, he could not shake it away from himself. He was sure he would never be able to not feel it.

"She's okay, Anakin. She has to be okay." The young man mumbled, trying to rid himself from that hopeless feeling that had surrounded him. For a moment he wished he did not have the Force, for if he didn't, he wouldn't have to feel what it had become. A pit of sorrow and despair.

* * *

Ahsoka halted suddenly. She could not see beyond the walls of the durasteel tunnels and yet she knew exactly where she was, just above the detention block. She quieted her mind and blocked the noises of the distant Jedi, focusing on the here and now, just like her Master had taught her and she knew why the Force had led her there. She could clearly sense Master Skywalker and she could sense someone else, Maul.

There were clones stationed there as well and, as much as it hurt her, she would have to fight them. But she didn't have to kill them.

Ahsoka found the hatch that would lead her to the detention block's corridor just a couple of meters in front of her. The clones had no idea she was there, so she could take them by surprise.

As silently as she could she opened the hatch and peeked inside, two clones stood guarding of one of the cells. Not Maul's, for she knew it was further down the corridor. It was Anakin's.

It pained her to watch as they conversed casually with each other, something about how ration bars tasted like overcooked bantha steak; as if nothing had happened, as if they'd not been ordered to kill their own General, the one they had served for years with unfaltering loyalty, as if it had meant nothing.

She shook the thought from her mind and reminded herself that it was not them, but those chips they had in their brains. It didn't matter either way, what mattered was that she would not leave that ship without her Master.

Ahsoka had lost many things during her short life, but she refused to lose Anakin.

She jumped down and her feet felt like cotton as they hit the floor. She walked slowly towards the clones that stood with their backs to her, concealing her presence in the Force.

With a swift move she knocked the first one out with the hilt of her lightsaber and the other with a kick to the head. Ahsoka couldn't help the pain she felt for hurting her companions. _Former companions,_ she prompted herself.

"Ahsoka, what are you doing here?" She heard her Master's voice and it felt like sunshine on a rainy day. For a moment, when they were trapped in that room waiting for the clones to barge in, it crossed her mind that they would never be together again.

She rushed to open the door and he emerged, taking her in for a hug, even though she had so blatantly disobeyed his orders. "I told you I wouldn't leave without you, Master."

* * *

Anakin could hardly describe how it felt to have his Padawan in his arms, holding on to her for dear life. He wished he never had to let go of her again, never lose sight of her, protect her forever, despite the irony that she was the one saving him.

"I'm so happy you're here, Snips."

She slid away from his embrace and looked at him. "We need another plan."

They did, but they still needed to get the ship out of hyperspace and they still needed a ship from the hangar. There were thousands of clones in that Star Destroyer, the only way to survive that ordeal was to run away.

Ahsoka took one of her lightsabers and handed it to her Master, probably having realized that his weapon was nowhere to be found. "I may have an idea." She told him as she looked towards the former Sith's cell.

"No! We are not enlisting the help of a Sith" Anakin responded adamantly. Jedi had dropped so far down, they could not stoop so low.

"Master, there's two of us. There are thousands of clones! They're not battle droids, they will kill us. We need help!" Anakin sighed, knowing it to be true, but unwilling to accept it. "We need a distraction and we need to find a way to fix this! We can't let Rex suffer this fate, Master. We need to find a way to undo this!"

Anakin pinched the bridge of his nose, still holding on to the lightsaber Ahsoka had given him. She was right. "The inhibitor chip can be surgically removed, Fives managed to remove his. But it takes time, Snips. We can't save them all."

"But maybe we can save Rex… Please." Her voice was pleading and Anakin could not refuse her. He could hardly imagine Rex living the rest of his life with a mind of little more than a droid, following orders blindly, against his own principles. He had saved his life many times over, and Ahsoka's. They owed him this.

Anakin just nodded and with a wave of his hand the ray shield protecting the Sith opened. Master and Padawan looked at him, caged inside that box, the Force stripped away from him. He hesitated, but Ahsoka did not. With the Force she undid the locking mechanism of the sarcophagus and the former Sith apprentice emerged. Anakin watched him inhale deeply and close his eyes, surely welcoming the Force that now flowed through him once more.

Then he opened his eyes and smiled; and that smile sent a shiver down his spine.

"It has begun!" The Sith spoke and looked at the Jedi Knight. "But not all has transpired as I saw in my visions; perhaps your apprentice was right Skywalker."

"Perhaps." Ahsoka said, snippy, as usual. If their situation was not so dire, Anakin would have smiled. But instead he ignited his lightsaber and pointed it at the dejected Dark Lord.

"If you want a way out of this mess, you will cooperate." He threatened, which gained him a faint smile from the Zabrak.

"And what is it that you wish me to do?"

Anakin didn't have time to answer, for Ahsoka hastened the response. "You get us out of hyperspace and meet us at the main hangar. If there are any ships available they'll be there. And you wreak havoc, nothing too different from what you usually do." She said, laying her hands on her waist, defiant as always.

"Well then, if that's all." He said and moved away.

For Anakin and Ahsoka, however, it was time to get their friend.

They left the detention block together, meeting very little resistance. Fro, me communications device they recovered from an unconscious clone they discovered that the clone forces were scattered, still unaware of the Jedi and Sith's escape, they searched the ship for Ahsoka.

Listening further, they also discovered that Rex's location was quite near the medical bay, which was quite lucky.

The thought reminded Anakin of his Master. He'd always said there was no such thing as luck, but the younger Jedi knew better. Along the way the unlikely trio parted ways, each heading to his own destination.

* * *

Rex knew Ahsoka Tano. He'd fought alongside her for years and he knew she was good at hiding. She had to be somewhere, hiding in a dark corner, in the ventilation system, in a maintenance closet. She was sneaky, she had always been, and he was aware that finding her was going to be no small feat.

But as a good soldier that he was, he would find her and, as unlikely as it would seem, he would kill her.

The ship was large, however, and the 501st was broken in half. He didn't have as many men as he wished he would have to search the Venator, but it would have to do. He had to scatter his forces though and hope that the men would be able to defend themselves from the might of that young woman.

Small as she was, she was dangerous. She was lethal. And she was a traitor to the Republic, the worst kind of traitor, a Jedi.

Rex didn't exactly know what the Jedi had done, but it didn't really matter. There was something in him that was certain that they were trying to destroy the Republic he had sworn to protect with his life. Deep inside he knew what it was, but for some reason, he could not remember. The only thing he knew was that all Jedi must die.

He crossed the halls of the medical bay; some of his men still lie there in the wake of their previous battle on Mandalore, some unconscious and other trying to get back to their feet, ready to lay their lives to protect the Republic.

The Commander heard a sound behind him that made the hairs on the back of his head stand up. He gripped his blasters more tightly and spared a glance at the two brothers that followed behind him. They seemed to be oblivious to Rex's feeling, they were even slightly relaxed, probably thinking there was nothing to be found there. As if they didn't know what kind of enemy they were facing, as if they didn't know her and her methods better than they knew themselves.

_Idiots._

They kept walking through the corridor, opening every door, checking inside, slowly, carefully and as silent as they could be. If there was a way to catch Commander Tano by surprise they had to take it.

Inwardly he scolded himself for thinking of her as his Commanding Officer. She was no such thing. Rex was the Commander now, and Ahsoka was nothing but a backstabbing turncoat.

He heard a sound again, but this time he was not the only one. Coming from the room where they had just checked. It had just been cleared and he was certain no one had been inside.

His brothers looked at the door and raised their weapons, Rex did the same. They moved toward it in silence, despite the heavy armor. The door opened before they reached it, and the two Jedi leaped from the inside, carrying their weapons.

The troopers fired but, for some reason, Rex felt his finger freezing on the trigger. His hand shook, his brothers had fallen unconscious beside him and Rex could only warn his comrades over the comm. "Jedi in the medbay!" He screamed.

The General moved towards him in a leap, those spectacular ones he had grown so used to, and Rex was still stuck, unable to perform his duty, oblivious as to why.

He felt something hit his head, something cold and metallic and he fell.

* * *

"Guard the door! They know we're here!" Her Master told her and she stood there, half of her attention on possible incoming enemies and the other half on Anakin, who nervously fiddled with the medical equipment as Rex lay on the stretcher where they had just put him.

Finally the medical droid came to life. Its soothing feminine voice was so utterly misplaced.

"There's some sort of chip in his brain, find it." Anakin ordered the droid who, without answer, started performing some kind of scan.

The Jedi Knight paced nervously across the room and his expression was more than angered when the droid announced that there was nothing.

"There has to be! Look again!" The droid obeyed and nothing was found. "I'm sure it's there!" Anakin spoke, now to his former apprentice.

"What kind of chip is it?" Ahsoka asked, as she finally started hearing the clones across the door and ignited her lightsaber as a reflex.

Anakin winced. "I don't know. Biological. I remember Fives saying he found it on a scan, and Rex's report said the same. It has to be there." He ran his gloved fingers through his hair.

They heard a metallic thud on the other side of the only door separating them from an entire army, not for the first time that day. "Well, you better find it fast, because we don't have much time here!"

"Look again!" Anakin yelled at the droid, who did how it was commanded. Ahsoka left her post and stood with her former Master next to the screen that showed images of Rex's brain. "Come on, come on…" She heard her former Master mumble next to her.

If the implant was somehow hidden, they needed the Force to help them free Rex from those shackles. She placed a hand over the screen and closed her eyes, calling on to her closest ally. She searched for what was amiss in her mind, the Force guiding her, whispering to her despite its darkness. And there it was, she knew it was, cleverly concealed, almost undetectable.

"There!" She heard her Master's voice and opened her eyes. "You did it Snips! Good job!" Anakin did not even waste time with taking a breath before ordering the droid to remove it. He unclipped his lightsaber from Rex's belt and threw the borrowed one at Ahsoka.

She turned to the door again, weapons ignited and ready. Her Master stood beside her and she heard the blade of his lightsaber come to life.

There they were, fighting one more battle, together, like they had done so many times before.


	7. The Day The World Ended

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here is the update, finally! It's been in the works for quite some time, but I edited it, re-wrote it and tweaked it a bunch of times and I'm still not satisfied with it! However, I'm going to post it anyway because I want to move to the next part of the story, because it's where it starts getting interesting and it was haunting my dreams and I really never want to look at it again LOL! So here it is. Hopefully the next one will be better because this is my least favorite thing I've wrote in a long while. Enjoy and leave a review (hopefully telling me it's not as terrible as I think! LOL)!

It seemed a day like any other when Jedi Master Shaak Ti knelt down to meditate, the same way she did every day, ever since she could remember.

It was with ease that she let out the breath she was holding and closed her eyes. It was with confidence she opened herself to the Force, allowing it to flow through her and invade all of her senses.

Shaak Ti could smell the Force, she could taste it, hear it, see it, feel it tingling against her skin like a feather.

She dove further into that familiar feeling, shutting out all that was outside, focusing all her energy within, letting her emotions release into the Force, and she saw it as they washed away in the current of blinding energy.

It made her happy, it made her hopeful.

But, as it turned out, that day was not a day like any other. Far from it, it was a day like she had never experienced before.

The things she saw while she immersed herself into the Force she would never forget. And the change had been so sudden, so frightening.

It had been like it always was, light and airy and smooth. It was a place of joy and hope and suddenly it seemed like a light had been turned off. And she was a child again, a child afraid of the dark.

Shaak Ti wanted to open her eyes but she could not, frozen as she was deep inside the Force. They mourned together. The Force showed her the truth. And what she saw was worse than any nightmare she could possibly fathom.

She saw a Jedi, a friend, fiercely face an impossible opponent, so dark and foul his mere presence was despairing; she saw him as he fell, wounded, defeated. She watched as he was taken in shackles, and she heard a woman call out his name in despair. _Obi-Wan,_ she said… _Obi-Wan…_

In a distant place she watched as two Jedi fought their way through herds of clones. A Master and an Apprentice battling back to back as equals. Desperate to find their way out, desperate to survive. She sensed their confusion, their determination. Their will to live. The Chosen One and his Padawan ran for their lives.

Shaak Ti witnessed a red-haired boy, grasping a lightsaber against his chest, sitting next to the corpse of his beloved Master, and screaming out of fear and pain.

The Force showed her another boy, running, crying as he watched his Master become one with the Force to save him, while the bonfire burnt peacefully as if nothing had ever happened.

Oh, these things she saw could never be forgotten. The Master of the Order's body was under the water, lifeless, gone. The Grand Master beheading his own men and running like a criminal; Masters falling to their deaths, unaware of what was happening to them. Knights' voices silenced by the people they trusted the most.

She wanted to open her eyes, but she couldn't. The Force held on to her presence desperately, as if it wanted to grab her light. So Shaak Ti, stuck within the stream of the Force watched as Jurokk, courageous and beloved Gate Master, held his ground against thousands and thousands of armored foes and joined the Force as he fought valiantly.

It was then that the Force showed her the worst of its woes. They cried in their cribs, alone. They were just babies, but they knew that something was coming. And something came, the blast fire against them, silencing their wails forever.

She screamed, and it was her own cry that woke her from her stupor. She felt the tears staining her cheeks, but there was no time for sorrow. As hopeless as it was she had to try.

Jedi Master Shaak Ti stood and she ran into the meanders of the Jedi Temple, aware that she was heading towards her doom.

* * *

Bail Organa did not have the Force, but, as he looked from the balcony of his overpriced apartment and watched smoke rise from the spires of the Jedi Temple, he did not need it to know that something was terribly wrong.

He had been a Senator for a very long time. He knew politics and, regretfully, he knew war. This could not be a Separatist attack, they had been utterly beaten in the battle over Coruscant; Dooku was dead, Grievous was on the run, as usual. Their forces were depleted. No, they would never attack the Jedi Temple; they didn't have the strength for it. If they could attack the Temple and rid themselves from their most powerful enemies, they would have done it when their forces were at the peak of their prowess. Not now.

So what Bail Organa saw did not make sense because it could only mean one thing. It could only mean he was right. And how he hated being right.

Was this it? The destruction of the Republic as he knew it, perpetrated from within? There was only one obstacle to the Chancellor, the Jedi, for long before they were soldiers they were guardians of peace and democracy.

No, this could not be true. The Senator paced the balcony thinking he knew the Chancellor, he would not be capable of such an atrocity.

But he needed to know. He needed to be sure.

Another explosion echoed in the distance, he had counted so many already. He watched as another spire of the Temple he respected became engulfed in flames.

He could not stand for this. He had to see it with his own eyes and make sure his worst nightmare was not coming true, and there was only one way he could be sure. He had to go to the Jedi Temple.

* * *

He didn't see his Master fall, but he knew he was dead. Zett was running away when he felt the pain of his training bond with his Master snap and it was excruciating. He felt tears stinging his eyes and stopped dead in his tracks.

The hangar was so close, too close, and he had no time to mourn. It's not what his Master would have wanted; it was not what he had sacrificed his life for.

Padawan Jukassa swallowed the lump in his throat and wished away his tears. He gripped his lightsaber tighter and he resumed his path, just like his Master had ordered.

The hangar was swarming with clones. Zett remembered that, not a week before that, they had been fighting together. Now, as he cut through them, all the memories from the past flooded him. It was all lost.

A speeder parked next to the landing pad with a familiar face. The Padawan had known Senator Organa before, he seemed like a good man. Maybe he could go with him, maybe he could his ticket out of the nightmare he was living.

But Zett was tired, he tried, but he was so terribly exhausted. The clones kept coming and coming; he killed them one by one, he did his best. Swirling his blade he avoided the blaster bolts from hitting his body, but the muscles on his arms burnt and finally his defenses gave in. He felt the first blast on his right arm and dropped his weapon. Then another one stung his leg and Zett fell to the ground. He knew he was done for; he was sure this was his end.

The young Padawan closed his eyes, unwilling to watch his demise, but he heard the familiar voice, a welcome one.

"No!" She said.

* * *

He was not capable of feeling anything. Somehow, as he witnessed events unfold before him he realized that they were far more terrible than he could possibly imagine, his mind shut down in horror.

Senator Organa stopped his speeder right next to the landing pad and impulsively jumped onto it.

He watched a child fighting valiantly against dozens of clones.

It was as he feared. The clones served the Republic, so no one else but the Chancellor could have ordered that monstrosity.

Bail Organa tried to reach the boy; he wanted to take him home, care for him, tell him he didn't have to fight anymore.

Just a child, he was just a child.

But the boy held his ground and Bail watched, helpless, frozen to his place on the ground, unable to move.

It was a sense of horror that overtook him as he saw the boy drop his weapon and fall to the ground and he could hardly process as a robed Togruta entered the hangar, with five clones on her tail.

He noticed her left montrail had been cut in half and that she was limping slightly. He also noticed something under her robes, something she was holding on to for dear life. He did not know what.

"No!" She screamed, as she, like himself, watched that poor child fall. The clone who was aiming at the boy startled, missed his killing shot and turned back to face the Jedi Master. The woman's weapon ignited. Brandishing it with only one hand she leapt towards the clone and cut him as the others shot her. She managed to deflect some blaster bolts, but it was too much.

Bail could not help but gasp as he watched who he knew to be Master Shaak Ti fall to her demise, still holding the bundle under her robes.

The boy, meanwhile had stood and recovered his weapon, limping on his wounded leg he charged the troopers that had killed the Jedi Master. There were only two left, but injured as he was, the child's strength was faltering.

It was in that moment that Bail grabbed his blaster. The clone had his back to him; he ran towards the boy and was clearly not worried about the helpless stranger that stood silently on the landing pad. The Senator shot him just before he took the child's life and the boy fearlessly cut through the neck of the last soldier and fell to his knees.

The Senator ran towards him and knelt next to him. "What's happening?" He asked foolishly.

The boy did not take his eyes from the ground when he answered between labored breaths. "I don't know. The clones attacked us."

Bail already knew that; and he was sure he knew why. Palpatine had finally become the dictator he knew he would become. But it did not matter. The only thing that mattered was to take that child out of harm's way. A battle was no place for him. But this was hardly a battle. It was little more than a cowardly attack, the summary execution of the Guardians of the Republic. He helped the boy up and guided him to his speeder.

He looked at Shaak Ti's body as they passed by it; life was gone from her eyes. But the bulge under her robes moved and suddenly began to cry. Both the boy and Bail hurried to the fallen Jedi and uncovered what hid beneath the robes.

A child, a baby. It was just a baby. A human baby with bright, tear stained green eyes; she was no more than one year old, two small pigtails were pinned to the sides of her head, and curly auburn hair fell from them.

He pulled her to his lap and helped the boy up again, hoping to lead them both to safety. "Come, we must hurry, before more clones arrive." He said. Those children's lives were in danger. If the clones were targeting younglings, no one could discover that these had survived.

They sat on the speeder and, after setting the crying little girl on the young Jedi's lap, Bail stepped on the throttle, hoping to leave that nightmare far behind him. As they gained distance, the silence between them became overwhelming. The Senator looked at the Padawan and he seemed to have read his mind. "My name is Zett Jukassa." He said, his voice faltering, the adrenalin of his ordeal was finally fading away and the boy's feelings were painfully catching up to him.

Bail sighed. "What about her? What's her name?"

Zett looked down at the weeping child on his lap and answered. "I don't know."

* * *

Anakin Skywalker was glad that two of the people he loved and trusted the must stood beside him and fought with him through the all too familiar corridors of the ship; and, most of all, he was glad that they had been able to rescue Rex from the dreadful fate that awaited his fellow clones.

It had been a hard task. But Rex was himself once more. He was the loyal soldier and the close friend. But most of all, he was a devastated man, a man who stood against his own brothers.

But, despite having Rex beside him, it was a small satisfaction, for Anakin knew that they had failed to save millions more.

It was no time for such musings, however. As they approached the hangar, the amount of clones on their path increased greatly.

It also made things harder that Ahsoka had made him promise not to kill anyone. He had been willing to, after all, they were not his men anymore, and they had turned against him. But, as always, Ahsoka was the true Jedi among them; living to the end by the principles that she'd been taught, the same ones that the Order itself had unconsciously abandoned.

The trio finally reached the blast door that led to the command center of the hangar, the place where so many times his men had cleared him for take-off and landing. But, much to his chagrin, it was locked. They were trapped. Anakin didn't need to look back to know that a herd of clones stood behind then. He turned around and looked at the men following them.

"Sir?" He heard Rex's inquisitive voice, at a lost of what to do.

Anakin pressed his heels on the ground and clasped his lightsaber to his belt. He heard Ahsoka's weapon penetrate the durasteel of the door; but the metal was thick and it would take time. The Jedi rose his hands and called on the Force; a wave of energy released from his palms as the first few rows of troopers were pushed backwards; some of them banging their backs against the hard durasteel walls and knocking them unconscious.

Others, however, soon recovered from the onslaught of the Force and stood, adding to the numbers of the other waves of clones that followed them now that the whole squadron knew their location.

He repeated his action, hoping that Ahsoka would just hurry up. But it never seemed to be enough. It was as if they just kept coming; or maybe the slight panic that had settled within him made it look like that there were hundreds of them.

Finally, the men of the army of the Republic changed their strategy, taking cover behind each other, using their brothers as human shields. But now they had time to fire their weapons. Anakin drew his lightsaber and, it was only with the Force's aid that he was able to deflect the seemingly endless blaster shots that came their way.

Suddenly, the Venator shook to its core, sending everyone on board stumbling. Anakin knew about ships, and what struck him was the absence the familiar hum of the hyperdrive. Were it not for the constant screeching of the alarms, the blaster shots and the humming of lightsabers, the ship would have been in absolute silence. Anakin almost laughed at his ridiculous thought, he would have in any other day, but he seemed to have lost his ability for it.

Before the clones could completely recover the durasteel of the blast doors hit the ground with a loud metallic noise. Anakin allowed his companions to pass through the hole in the door towards their destination and then followed them and the sight that welcomed him was everything but pleasant.

The hangar was filled with clone troopers, many more than they could handle. There were hundreds of them and, as soon as they arrived the sound of the blaster bolts came from every direction. Anakin found himself fighting back to back with his Padawan and his commander, but he knew they could not hold on for long.

Despite their predicament he was able to take in his surroundings. There were only two ships in the hangar, one shuttle that could hold them all and one single passenger fighter, the one he had arrived in and, as he looked through the ray shielded gates of the hangar, he realized they were dangerously close to a planet and getting closer by the second, clearly being pulled in by its gravitational field.

At that moment, the Jedi Knight realized that, very soon, everyone inside that ship would die, including them, if they didn't board the only available shuttle.

And even though he was faced with his almost certain death, he couldn't help but realize the enormity of the power the Sith held over the clones. The ship was not maneuvering, he realized, no one was trying to pull off the gravitational field. The clones were fully concentrated in hunting down the Jedi, even if it meant their deaths.

He couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine, as he desperately averted the relentless fire directed at them. They could not advance towards the shuttle, they could not go back.

They were completely surrounded.

A shrill of beeps came to his attention and he looked at his fateful droid who, suddenly, managed to lower one of the platforms in the flight deck before them, allowing them to be able to finally move towards the shuttle. The droid rolled towards them, zapping and shocking any clones who crossed its path.

But still, it was not enough. If they broke their formation they would never be able to avoid the fire from all sides, and they'd be killed.

Anakin was beginning to wonder if it was not worth the try when Darth Maul entered the hangar through the cut open doors, the dark side invaded the entirety of the flight deck, making the air suddenly go stale and heavy.

The Sith had no weapon, but with the Force he pushed his enemies away, he crushed their throats and sent them flying into walls. His expression was calm, almost amused. With their flank freed by the Sith Lord Anakin and Ahsoka took the opportunity of calling on the Force and pushing away two groups of clone troopers, while Rex, with his blaster set to stun, relentlessly shot his own brother, his own flesh and blood.

"Artoo, get the ship ready!" The Jedi ordered, his mouth was dry and his throat was sore, as if he hadn't spoken in months. But the fateful droid beeped his agreement and rolled towards the ship.

The three, with the aid of the Sith, made their way through the clones and towards the shuttle. Anakin's muscles were burning and he felt his hair stick to his forehead when he heard the engines being turned on behind him. He looked outside again and realized the ray shields were still activated.

He looked to the wall on his right and saw the console. But he could not get there to deactivate the ray shield. "Go inside!" he screamed to his companions and stood at the platform of the shuttle, deflecting the blaster bolts that continually assaulted them, trying his hardest to redirect them to non-vital organs, which made the task that much more difficult.

"Ahsoka, shoot the shield generator!" Even though she made no response, in seconds he heard the cannon of the ship go off, and felt the platform beneath his feet rise and the shuttle finally taking off and leaving the hangar bay.

Anakin walked inside and took the pilot's seat, they were already in the planet's atmosphere and were being pulled in rapidly. Too rapidly. The Jedi was so familiar with the ships' controls that he didn't even have to look at them to steady the ship as they approached the planet. But the problem was not ahead of them, but behind.

As the Venator-class Star Destroyer entered out of control in the atmosphere, its hull set on fire. And suddenly, they were not running from clones, they were running from the ship that pursued them in a free fall. A deadly ball of fire. Enormous and unforgiving.

Ashoka sat next to him and looked at the sensors horrified. Anakin knew why, the Venator was too close to them, pieces of burning debris were releasing from the dying ship and scattering behind them, and as skilled a pilot as he was, he was too close to land and moving too fast to be able to shift direction. He pondered entering hyperspace, but near as they were to the planet they'd certainly crash into it.

"Evasive maneuvers!" He heard the Sith behind him and, for a second, he wanted to stand from his seat, cut off his head and finish what his Master had started so many years ago. But instead he obeyed and pushed on the throttle. The overheating alarms began blaring, he could see the metal on the hull turn orange from the friction, but their only hope was to be faster than the beast of a ship that was following them.

He did succeed, however, not enough. Just as he had managed to gain some distance from the Venator, and prepared to try to land safely away from the soon to be wreckage site, the ship jolted. Another alarm sounded desperately and the sounds of the engines turned off. A piece of debris had crashed into them.

Anakin took a deep breath, and steered the wounded vessel. It crashed and glided through the ground, making an awful sound, hitting everything in its path. And suddenly it stopped, the alarms were suddenly silenced.

It was only a moment though, when the noise of an enormous explosion invaded their ears. The Venator had crashed and burned, and Anakin sensed all of its passengers die all at once and become one with the Force.

They stayed in the ship, unmoving. No one dared speak. A Jedi Knight, a former Jedi, a disgraced soldier, a droid and a renegade Sith, together the day the world ended. There were no jokes to tell, no moment of relief.

And in the silence, suddenly Anakin felt the Force around him. He felt the pain, the despair, the helplessness and the death, all the death across the Galaxy.

He felt Jedi dying, one after the other, after the other.

Suddenly it was as if the air had been ripped away from his lungs. He couldn't breathe, he could only see it before his eyes. Lights fading away, erasing, screaming.

And he knew that the Jedi were no more.


	8. Crossroads

Darth Sidious was quite proud of himself when he left the old Senate building that evening. It had been a long session, the one he had been expecting to hold for most of his life; it had been the day he had become Emperor of the First Galactic Empire; the day when he achieved the one goal the Sith had been pursuing for thousands of years. And they had failed, one after the other.

Until then; until him.

That day a Sith Lord stood in the very heart of democracy and he gave the Galaxy to the Dark Side of the Force.

That day he won; not only did he gain the Galaxy, but he condemned the Jedi to the fate that they deserved. Their destruction was the only path.

The Sith couldn't help a smile from forming on his lips when he thought of how easy it was to manipulate the Senate. A few deleted images, some carefully edited audio recordings and they branded their very saviors and protectors as traitors; their slaughter was justified, and the few remaining ones would be hunted down and killed like the animals that they were.

His plan had unfurled almost to perfection. He thought of it as he stood on the balcony of his luxurious home and contemplated the towers of black smoke that emanated from the spires of the ancient Jedi Temple. It was _his_ Temple. _His_ Galaxy. _His_ Senate. _His_ army.

He had it all now. All but one thing: the apprentice he had spent the last thirteen years grooming to become the perfect killing machine, the ruthless attack dog, the most powerful Sith that had ever lived, but broken to his core, bent on his knees for his Master's pleasure. He would have shattered his spirit; he would have left him no exit but the Dark Side.

But at the key moment he had left and he was nowhere to be found.

However, Darth Sidious had not yet lost hope. There was still time to find him, his Jedi hunter, his very own one man army. He pulled his hood over his face and turned away from the city view making his way to the hidden turbolift in the study, as he had done many times before, but for the first time as Emperor.

It descended quickly, deep into the bowels of the city planet of Coruscant and into the hidden lair that had been built long ago by his old Master, even before he became his apprentice and took the name of Darth Sidious.

He stepped out of the old turbolift right after it slightly screeched to a halt and entered the dark corridors filled with long forgotten artifacts adorning its walls. He walked alone and in silence; his steps were the only thing that indicated any form of life deep within those walls.

But he was not the only one there; far from it. For a few days he had entertained some very special guests and he was very keen to break their will, even though he was beginning to believe that they actually knew nothing worth telling about his chosen apprentice's whereabouts. But nonetheless, one way or the other, he would break them, if not their spirit he would destroy their flesh. There was one of two ways they would leave those dungeons: either to do his bidding or as corpses.

Quickly the Sith Lord pressed the four digit code into the lock on the wall; the code that only he knew, for that room in particular held the man that certainly was currently the most dangerous prisoner in the Galaxy.

As the doors opened he beheld him, the wound on his shoulder was still open, even if cauterized. His once light robes were stained with blood and sweat, and he was trapped in the apparatus that very effectively took the Force away from him; his hair was glued to his forehead and his cheek rested on his own shoulder as he slept, certainly spent from the grueling treatment of the last few days.

Sidious heard the metallic door slide closed behind him, but the Jedi did not wake.

The Sith raised his hands and could not avoid the cackle that came out of his throat as he unleashed the blue lightning on the Jedi and saw his eyes shoot open and heard the guttural scream that came out of his mouth.

"Master Kenobi," Darth Sidious said, "where is Anakin Skywalker?"

* * *

It was not the first time Anakin Skywalker felt like time stood still. It had happened twice before: when his mother died and when he believed his Master died.

It was a strange feeling, as if the Galaxy kept going around him, but he just stood there, frozen in time and space, even though he knew he moved and he grew older.

That was happening once again as night fell on that moon and he watched as the engines of the ship that had saved their lives burned.

He vaguely remembered smelling the smoke that began invading the cockpit and Ahsoka taking his arm and pulling him out and then they sat on the dirt of that almost lifeless and unknown place.

And they were silent. The flames ravaged their only way out of that place, the wind gave them strength and made them wave as if they were a sea of reds and oranges that danced before his eyes, lighting up the darkest of nights.

A vision came to him, yet it lasted only a moment. A vision of another fiery place, where the ground was stained with fire all over, and the heat scorched his skin. A sense of dread overcame him, and it felt like the place that the Force had shown him was in some way cursed.

But Anakin did not react. None of them did. They heard the flames until the fire burned down, as dawn began peeking through the night sky.

And then a bout of laughter awoke him from his stupor. He looked at the zabrak as he bent over himself, laughing in earnest, somehow satisfied even though he could feel the death and the pain all around him.

The Jedi felt the heat rising in his body, the numbness that overcame him suddenly lifting and he stood and strode towards the renegade Sith. He said no words when he reached for his throat and squeezed it with his metallic hand. But Maul kept laughing, even when the air stopped reaching his lungs.

He heard his name being called, but he could not care less. How dare he? How dare this creature laugh in a time such as that? How dare he mock the death that surrounded them, the pain and the darkness that overtook the Force and that clouded everything.

_How dare he?_

The Knight could feel the Force leaving the zabrak, he could feel him fading away and he remembered what had happened merely hours before; when they were in that ship that now burned in a close by place, filled with the lifeless bodies of his men.

It seemed like it had been so long before; but it was only hours since the very creature he was killing had reminded him that he was becoming the very thing that Darth Sidious wanted him to become and he saw himself, again, giving in to his anger, like he had done before. He was once again choking the life out of that very same man; again doing what the wielders of the Dark Side wanted him to do; the same thing he had done before and had left scars deep within him that he knew he would never be able to heal.

So he dropped the Sith and watched as he fell to the floor, still laughing and coughing.

And Anakin balled his fists on his side, wishing that rage away. He wanted to ask what was so funny, but he dared not, lest it came back to claim him.

But he did not have to. For once the zabrak caught his breath he spoke the first words that had been said for so long. "We won. He didn't get you." He said as he laughed. "Sidious lost his apprentice."

Anakin sat himself on the dirt again as the vision of that fiery distant place assaulted him again; it was empty and filled with sorrow. Somehow he knew that he would have been there; he knew not for what or why, but he knew there he would have become a monster.

He closed his eyes and let the numbness overcome him once more. He heard the voices around him, all of them, asking questions, answering, speaking. But he did not hear. He did not want to hear anything.

He wanted it all to be a nightmare.

He felt the time pass, he scarcely recalled as he watched as Ahsoka rummaged through the wreckage of the Venator and counted the bodies they found. He could hardly process as they began digging graves for the fallen clones and laid them down for their final rest.

Anakin felt like he hadn't spoken a word in days. Most of the time he sat and he looked at nothing; unwilling to see, fearful of delving into the Force.

The pain had stuck with him and clung itself to his body and mind; the Force smelled of death and fear and the Jedi did not wish to experience it again.

But most of all he was afraid, afraid of searching and finding what he dreaded the most. Through all the darkness, Padmé's faint connection to the Force was virtually impossible to sense. But his bond with his Master was still there, it lingered in his mind and Anakin shied away from it, fearful of finding nothing on the other side.

He was not only afraid for them, he was afraid of himself. He had never dealt well with death, the memories of his actions when faced with his mother's demise still haunted his dreams. And he had heard what Maul had said, that the Sith wanted him to join their Order and he was afraid, that in his pain and anger ,he would do exactly that.

So Anakin Skywalker cut himself from the Force as much as he was able to. Never completely, for their connection was far too deep, but just enough to keep himself from breaking, to avoid succumbing to the fate that had been lined up for him against his will and without his knowledge.

He kept himself shut down for what it seemed like a very long time, avoiding to feel anything from the Force.

It had been weeks, they'd found a river nearby to drink from, they found food hunting small animals and fish from the river, but for the most part the moon they were on was devoid of any plant life.

Maul had disappeared long ago, opting to fend for himself. Anakin didn't care to look for him; it barely mattered.

The days came and went in a blur; at night they slept under the stars, covered with what little they could salvage and his slumber had been often quiet. It had been quiet until that night.

That night the Force screamed inside his mind, begging to be heard, pleading to be let in. Anakin awoke in a startle, the pain within him was too much to bear. The little that he had left was gone; they were all gone. He knew it. Obi-Wan, Padmé. His heart shattered into a million pieces and he was helpless, hopeless in that long forgotten rock.

The bond with his Master had been severed in an instant; he had never felt a pain such as the one he experienced in that very moment. Before it happened he saw her face, riddled with tears, screaming: _No,_ she said, _No_. He saw her for a moment through his Master's eyes, his Padmé, crying out in pain.

And suddenly there was nothing, as if a part of him had been violently ripped away, there was a void in place of his Master's warmth and the lingering image of her last moment would be etched in his mind forever.

* * *

There was a tingling sensation in the tips of his fingers; it had been there for so long. It was what bothered him the most; it was not the pain, not the hunger or the thirst, it was not even the lack of sleep, it was that horrid constant tingling that was driving him mad.

He wished he could move his arms and shake the tingling away, but he could not. How long had it been since he had been bound?

Obi-Wan felt so incredibly exhausted in so many ways. He'd been cut off from the Force for a very long time, even though he did not know how long exactly. He knew he'd been strapped to that apparatus. Sidious visited him everyday, it had been the only person he had seen ever since his ordeal had begun. But, even though his visits were short, the torture continued constantly.

Something prevented him from sleeping. Every time he closed his eyes, something made him jerk back awake.

So it had been long since he could form any sort of coherent thought. That tingling kept his mind occupied, as if he was incapable of feeling anything else. It was there, keeping him company every day, all day.

Until Sidious came; everyday he did. And he asked only one question: _Where is Anakin Skywalker?_

Obi-Wan Kenobi's answers changed as time went by.

At first he said nothing; responding to the Sith with complete and utter silence. Then, he started saying he did not know, which he didn't, of course. Afterwards, he made up places, hoping to throw the Sith off his former Padawan's scent. Some time later he said he wished he knew and, oh, had he known he would have told him. Currently, Obi-Wan found himself not knowing what to say. His mind was barely able to even comprehend the question, let alone answer it.

That day, however, something happened. The Jedi Master felt himself dozing off to sleep, expecting to be awoken at any moment. But he wasn't, not right away at least. It was not a comforting sleep, nor was it long. But it was sleep. Maybe it was only a few minutes, or maybe an hour, until whatever it was that often awoke him jolted him back into his dreaded reality.

When he opened his eyes, even though the bright white lights blinded him, he could make out the dark figure he had become so accustomed to.

Usually it came with a blur of blue light and bone searing pain. Not that time, however.

Obi-Wan's tired eyes finally adjusted to the white blinding light. Darth Sidious stood before him in silence, waiting. The Jedi Master felt the urge to close his eyes to sleep once more, but he fought against it and concentrated his thoughts on the constant tingling, as he so often did, and settled his gaze on the Sith.

After what it seemed to be an excessive amount of time, Sidious walked slightly closer to him and his lips curled into a cruel smile. "Master Kenobi," he finally said, "I believe you."

The Jedi did not answer but Darth Sidious did not let the silence linger for too long. "You see, you sent Skywalker away and now he is nowhere to be found. I've searched for him and, so far, there is no sign of him." He continued. "It seems that you have created quite the conundrum. I had a plan, a very good plan, if I might say so myself, and you have disturbed it. Now I find myself at a loss of what to do. Anakin was a good boy, a confused boy, but a good one. But he always stood on the verge and, even though he was your chosen one, I was just about to take him as my apprentice. And what a wonderful apprentice he would be, don't you think? After all, you had the good fortune of being his teacher. Isn't he such a powerful and useful little thing?"

The Sith's voice sounded so amused that, despite his overwhelming exhaustion, Obi-Wan couldn't keep himself from feeling a bout of rage forming within him. He finally allowed his croaked voice to speak. "He would never join _you!_ " His tone felt venomous and filled with anger, even though his worlds slurred slightly. Obi-Wan knew it was wrong, he knew he should ignore him. But he had long lost control of himself; he had long lost control of his own feelings and thoughts, and he lacked the Force to aid his focus.

The Sith's smile widened before he spoke. "Perhaps you shouldn't be so confident in your former apprentice. After all, desperate times call for desperate measures and we both know he was desperate. What with the impending death of his wife and child and the distrust and lack of recognition from the Jedi Order. I'm sure, were you in his place, you would certainly do whatever it took to protect the ones you love."

"Never!" The Jedi responded and he heard the Dark Lord cackle.

"Oh, Master Kenobi, never is an awfully long time. You shouldn't use that word."

The Dark Lord of the Sith fell silent and sighed deeply. "What you must understand is that succumbing to the Dark Side of the Force is just a matter of circumstances. Often we find ourselves at a crossroads and the choices we make may lead us to a path that we never believed we could take, and doing things that we never thought ourselves capable of. Count Dooku was a very good example of such. Once an esteemed Jedi Master, plagued by the failures of your Order and broken by the death of his apprentice, became a very fine Sith. Even you, perfect Jedi that you are, had an encounter with the Dark Side, did you not Master Jedi? I am sure that you recall Darth Maul. That was impressive work. Did you not experience it, Master Kenobi? Do you not remember it? The power of the Dark Side. Don't you remember how you let your anger flow through you? Don't you remember how overwhelmingly freeing it was?"

"It's just an illusion, it's not real power…" Obi-Wan's tired voice croaked and Sidious let out a laugh.

"Not real power?" He asked, in between breathless cackles. "Oh Master Jedi, is becoming Emperor not real power? Is killing thousands of Jedi in one swift act not real power?"

The Jedi knew not what to answer and the Sith waited. He looked at the Jedi, fixing his gaze and smiled once more. With a wave of his hand the shackles that kept him bound opened and Obi-Wan fell on the floor. There he was, on his hands and knees, unable to stand on his own for lack of strength. First he heard the Sith's boots slowly clacking on the durasteel floor until they were right in front of him.

His head felt so very heavy, but the Jedi Master managed to look up and see Darth Sidious looking down on him, with that ugly grin plastered on his face. "Are you not kneeling before me, _Master Jedi?"_ The poison dripped from his final words and Obi-Wan felt more helpless than ever.

The Sith crouched next to him, and Master Kenobi felt his cold hand grip his chin. He forced him to look into his eyes, yellow and red rimmed, so filled with hate and greed. He felt his hot breath on his face when he spoke again, now in nothing more than a whisper. "The Force showed me the future. And I saw your beloved apprentice, spreading fear across the Galaxy. And I saw you, _Jedi,_ kneeling before me. Is this not real power?"

Suddenly Obi-Wan felt it once more. The Force flowing through him, ringing in his mind, drowning him in its power. But it was so dark, so tainted, so foul. He felt tears forming in his eyes, and as he looked upon those Sith yellow orbs, he felt it, and he couldn't help but say it. "I hate you!" He screamed, but his voice arrived broken and crooked.

The Sith cackled and then stopped and gazed upon him. "You do? But I merely took advantage of your failures. You were the one who raised Anakin to become an angry man! You were the one who left the Jedi Temple defenseless. You were the one who did not warn your brothers across the Galaxy about me. _You,_ Master Jedi, have failed so utterly and completely that even I pity you."

And Obi-Wan felt it for the first time ever, such incredible hatred. What he had felt for Maul as he watched his Master fall to his death was nothing compared to that moment. He wanted to kill Sidious, he wanted revenge for his brethren, he wanted to strike him down and destroy him. But in the back of his mind a voice screamed that the Sith was right, that he had failed. That he had caused the Jedi's fall and that their blood was on his hands. A million scenerios flashed through his mind. What could he have done differently? Why had he not told them all? Why had he not waited?

_Why? Why? Why?_

And he hated himself more than anything, more than Sidious, more than the Sith, more than anything.

He felt the tears run from his cheeks. The pain within him was too much to handle. He delved into the Force for a moment and he sensed nothing but death and despair; despair that only mirrored his own.

He couldn't handle it. A sob escaped his dry lips and the Sith's cold hands let go of him and the Dark Lord stood and turned his back on him as Obi-Wan stared at the floor and watched as his tears fell on the grey durasteel.

The Sith Lord's fingers snapped and a door opened and he heard Padmé's voice calling out his name and the sound of children crying.

Obi-Wan looked up and saw them, younglings, dressed in Jedi robes. They were only children, none of them older than five years old. And Padmé, with her hands wrapped around her swollen stomach and her cheeks stained with tears. Red clad guards had dragged them into the room, and they stood behind them as they placed them around him. The younglings to his left side and Padmé to his right. Padmé, pregnant with Anakin's child.

Above the cries rose Sidious' voice. "You see Master Kenobi, now we find ourselves at your crossroads. What will you choose? Keep Anakin's family safe and therefore saving him from falling into the clutches of the Dark Side or save these poor innocent children that your Jedi Order snatched from their mothers' arms?"

The Jedi looked up at the Sith and he smiled. "Do you know what happened the first time Anakin lost someone he loved? A rampage, Master Kenobi, a whole village slaughtered in anger. Imagine what he would do if you killed his wife and unborn child. But those poor little children, they never asked to be brought into your Temple, did they? And yet, you must choose." He said and he pulled the Jedi Master's lightsaber from his robes and presented it to him.

Obi-Wan, however, did not take it. "Please, don't make me do this." He pleaded as his tears streamed down his face. "Please."

The Sith laughed again. "Or maybe strike me down and give into your anger, knowing you will lose and they will all die."

"I won't! I can't!" The Jedi pleaded once more, on his knees, lost. "Oh but you must. The only thing you have to ask yourself is, what do you love more? Your Padawan or your Order? Take your weapon and do what must be done!"

Obi-Wan Kenobi felt rage searing through him. He grabbed the lightsaber from Sidious' hand and, with strength he did not know he possessed he waved his blade at the Sith. It was a lost battle even before it began. Even before the Jedi finished the strike, a barrage of lightning hit the Jedi, who was unfocused and blinded by anger and despair. He fell as he clutched his weapon in between his fingers. Pulling through the pain, Obi-Wan rose to his feet, his injured shoulder burning and his tired muscles were giving in.

"Choose, Master Kenobi, or lose it all. Choose or fail again!" The Sith said, his voice demanding and venomous and Obi-Wan pleaded again, to no avail. "Save the younglings and I promise they will be safely delivered to their families, or save Padmé and I vow to never search for Anakin Skywalker. You will keep him safe from the Dark Side."

He heard them now, the children. "Master Kenobi," they said in between their tears and Padmé, "No, Obi-Wan. Don't give in."

But Obi-Wan was tired and lost and helpless. He closed his eyes and ignited his weapon. If he didn't choose, Sidious would kill them all. And if he saved Anakin he would save all the Jedi.

He swung his blade and, in an instant, the wails of the children were silenced and Padmé's screamed out. _No,_ she said, _No._ And he could not let Anakin watch, he could not let him see what he had become, so he severed the bond they had shared for so long as he severed those children. And suddenly, something within him had broken, and he had lost himself.

He fell to his knees again, he heard himself cry and he dropped his lightsaber, it rolled far from him. Obi-Wan covered his face in shame, in anger. He would not handle the pain, he could not.

Sidious was next to him, and he whispered in an almost fatherly tone. "Stand beside me and I will teach you to use your pain, to live with it, to vanish it from inside yourself. Together we will keep them safe and I will keep my promise, if you join me."

And Obi-Wan was lost. Had he any other choice? He had sacrificed everything to save Anakin, he had sacrificed his very soul, he had given in to his anger and his despair and now, he could see no way back; it was the point of no return.

"If I join you, will you leave him alone?" He asked as he heard Padmé's voice pleading with him. But he could not, he had to save her, he had to save Anakin. There was nothing else he could do. Nothing else. They were all they had left, they were all that he loved. Everything else was gone, even himself.

"I promise." The Sith replied.

Darth Sidious held out his hand, and Obi-Wan took it. As he pulled him up, his new Master said the words he never thought he would hear. "Rise, Darth Menis."

Obi-Wan Kenobi was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys. Firls of all I hope you enjoyed and leave your commets! I'll be very happy with it. And now, to adress a couple of things. Finally this story got to the point that started it! How far would they go to save each other. Pretty far, I'd say so. lol And second, the name, Darth Menis. It comes from greek, It means the wrath of Achilles, which is Mênis. I thought it was fitting, Achilles died because of his only weakness, here Anakin is Obi-Wan's weakness and besides I think it sounds cool and not overly obvious. Here is a little thing from the internet that explains the meaning: "mênis - an emotion so powerful that it becomes coextensive with the combined forces of nature in the cosmos (see kosmos, so that the hero's anger becomes a cosmic sanction: see Leonard Muellner, The Anger of Achilles: Mênis in Greek Epic (Ithaca: Cornell UP 1996)."


	9. Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus chapter! Just because it was ready and I feel like it! This one doesn't have much action, see it sort of as an interlude, so it's mainly just the feels, which, if you couldn't tell, is actually what I enjoy writing the most!  
> Thank you for all the kudos, comments and everything!   
> I hope you enjoy and give your feedback! :)

That was the night that her children were born. As they lay in their small cribs and she watched them sleep, Padmé wondered, how was it possible something so incredibly pure and beautiful had come to the world in such a night? A night filled with such pain, blood and despair?

She’d never forget it; she’d never be able to erase from her mind what she saw that night.

Padmé truly did not want it to happened, she remembered screaming. She remembered saying no, begging for him to not give in, almost pleading for him to kill her. But as she gazed upon her perfect children she knew that nothing would ever be enough to repay Obi-Wan Kenobi for his sacrifice, for what he had done to save her family. Not only her and her children, but Anakin as well.

So often she closed her eyes and remembered what he did on Tatooine all those years ago; so often did she excuse him and tell herself he was in an untold amount of pain; so often she told herself that it wasn’t him; that it would never happen again, that he was not in his right mind.

So often she deceived herself.

But Obi-Wan did not deceive himself; he didn’t have the luxury of doing so. So she watched as he did the unthinkable; she watched as he lost himself to the very thing he fought to destroy, she watched as one of her dearest friends gave his soul for the only family he had ever known.

And then she looked back as she was dragged away from him and she saw him as he knelt before the Emperor; she heard as he vowed to submit to his teachings and obey his commands.

Her heart broke as she watched as Obi-Wan Kenobi perished and she cried for the loss of her friend; for the loss of the man who was as much part of her family as her husband and her children and the pain was too much to endure.

Later she found herself alone, a droid cooed her softly as she gave birth to her children, and she remembered how it rained so much outside, and how the sky was often lit by lighting.

She saw Luke first; and then she held Leia. Rays of sunshine in the midst of all that darkness. As she saw them she kept crying, crying of sorrow and happiness; crying out of despair and hope.

Then time had passed and things had changed.

Her cell was traded by a luxurious home away from the city center; it was a more secluded part of Coruscant; one she was not familiar with.

The day she was sent there was another one that would be etched into her mind. The place had a view to a garden that surrounded her from all sides, and she saw no other people, only the speeders in the distance and the faint lights of the city.

She walked into the house. Unlike most of the construction in Corsucant, the building it was not a tall one, though it clearly stood on the high levels of the city. Her home new occupied two entire floors, for some reason she suspected the few levels above her were empty. Everything she owned was there: the furniture from her old home, her dresses and jewlery, the things she had bought for her babies; even the robes that Anakin always kept in her closet

She held the worn out cloak against her chest, hoping he would be alright, hoping that the sacrifices made on his behalf would not be in vain and hoping she’d see him again, that one day she could see the look on his face as he saw their beautiful children for the first time; she hoped she’d see him smile again and that she could touch him once more.

And as she held the only thing of her husband she had left, she looked over to the beautiful garden that surrounded her new home, and she watched as the ray shield activated around it and gave the sky a white cast of light,.

Padmé knew that, despite not being in a cell and being surrounded by all the luxuries credits could buy, despite being able to go and lie on the grass, she was still a prisoner, and so were her children.

She settled into her strange new life and soon she discovered that time passed by very slowly when one is alone. Her only company was her faithful droid: Threepio ran around the house, doing whatever needed to be done and he kept her company as much as he was able to. Once a week he gathered the supplies they and it was the only time the doors to her new prison ever opened. She often glimpsed the troopers stationed outside. But they were the only people she ever saw.

The garden and kitchen droids were nothing like Threepio, surely being assembled in a production line made them lack the personality and human like traits Anakin had given to his own creation.

The babies kept her busy for the most part; but at night, once they were sleeping and the droids shut off, all Padmé had was the background sound of the heavily censored Holonet. And that was even more unbearable than the loneliness.

Journalists spewed news about the betrayal of the Jedi and celebrated their swift executions. Of course the propaganda omitted that there was no sort of trial and praised the new Emperor for the swift action against the traitors and his overwhelming victory against the Separatist.

Late at night, the faces of the still living Jedi were paraded, with bounties placed under it. Their evil deeds put on display: they were murderers, they plotted to overthrow the Chancellor, they plotted to assassinate him and takeover the Senate and an endless current of lies.

The first time she saw Anakin in those images her heart sank. The absurd amount that was the bounty on his head flashed incessantly under his beautiful face; the reported claimed he, along with Yoda and Windu, had been the masterminds of the coup. But, despite now being aware that her husband was now one of the most wanted man in the Galaxy, Padmé had to take solace in the fact that, at least, he was alive.

Soon she desisted on watching anything at all and often spent her sleepless nights in the twins’ room, watching them breathe peacefully in their slumber, and often she cried, longing for freedom and her lover’s warm embrace.

As for Obi-Wan, she did not see him for quite some time. But eventually he came, on the day the twins turned one month old, she woke up early in the morning and, as she left her room, a dark figure sat on her sofa and stared at the bright green grass outside, with his back turned to her. She would never believe it was him, all dressed in black as he was. No, Obi-Wan had always been light rather than darkness. If not for the auburn locks that adorned his head she would never have recognized him.

“Obi-Wan?” She dared call out and he looked back. He was eerily the same, but so very different. There was a sadness in his eyes that was not there before, and they were different. Their brightness was gone and a yellow hue covered the beautiful and almost transparent blue that used to look at her before.

Yet Padmé didn’t care, what he was he had become for Anakin, for Luke, for Leia, and all Padmé could do was love her friend regardless, so she ran across the room and she hugged him, burying her face in his chest and staining his black robes with her tears. “Are you alright?” she asked and felt his hands on her back, but his touch was cold and distant.

“Yes,” his soft and familiar voice answered and then he held her shoulders and pushed her away from his embrace. He looked straight into her teary eyes, as if searching for something that he could not find. “Are you and the children alright?”

She nodded and felt his touch abandon her. He picked something up from the small table and held it in his hands. “Good. I don’t know when I will return, but I’ll come check on you when I can.”

And, as he turned to leave, Padmé grabbed his arm. “Please stay. The twins are one month old today and Threepio is baking a cake to celebrate.” Padmé paused and her words said something with a meaning far beyond the literal one. “You don’t have to go, Obi-Wan.”

He smiled a smile filled with sorrow and he took her hand from his arm, squeezing it within his gloved one. “Yes, I do.”

Obi-Wan let go of Padmé’s hand, he pulled his hood over his head and placed a mask on his face, covering his mouth and nose. Only his eyes peeked through all the darkness surrounding them, their yellowish color contrasting with all the blackness, and, even before he left, Obi-Wan Kenobi was out of her sight.

* * *

Time was a funny thing. And all Anakin had those days was time; like he’d never had before. In that Force-forsaken rock there was nothing to occupy him, no slaver to order him around, no mother to make him do his shores, no Master to drag him from one lesson to another, no war to fight.

All there was was time.

Time to think, to reflect, to mourn. Time to analyze his mistakes, time to meditate, time to search the Force for answers and so, so much time to wait.

As it went by the seasons began to change; in the beginning the air was dry and hot; nights were easy and starry. Now, the first glimpses of cold began settling, the morning frost would ice around them and the nights were cold and unwelcoming.

And as it changed the seasons, time also had a way of changing people.

That night when he felt his Master’s presence disappear into nothing and saw Padmé’s face in agony he had been so angry; so incredibly and painfully angry.

Images of him slaying Palpatine constantly flashed in his mind; he imagined himself cutting his head from his shoulders, he imagined how he would choke him with his bare hands, or how he’d just beat him to death.

But then the days came and went, and he slept and awoke and ate and drank and bathed in the cold waters of the river. And as he did something within him changed, he was so tired of being angry, he was so tired, so exhausted.

He was tired of being filled with the need for revenge; it had been eating away at him. It was consuming him and depriving him of his sanity.

Anakin thought and thought; he barely spoke, he barely listened to anyone other than his own mind and he realized he had been angry for so long; he had been angry all his life. He’d been angry at Watto for being his slaver, he’d been angry at his mother for letting him go, he’d been angry at Obi-Wan for his brutal honesty, at the Jedi Order for not trusting him and not giving him the recognition he thought he deserved, at the Separatists for the war, at Ahsoka for leaving him, at Palpatine for betraying him and taking his Master and his family, at the clones for turning on the Jedi.

Anakin was angry at himself for being angry.

Yet now, that he had time, he realized he was so incredibly tired of being angry.

So, as time did with all things, it changed him.

One day, Anakin was not angry. He was just sad, so painfully and unbelievably sad.

And, somehow, he finally realized that anger and vengeance would do nothing to abate the emptiness that had settled within him; it would not bring his mother back, or Obi-Wan, or Padmé, or his unborn child.

Finally it dawned on him that he would never see them again, that, no matter what he did, they were gone forever and it was so unbearably heart wrenching that he did not find strength within him to be angry anymore.

It was a night like any other when he found himself in their makeshift shelter, built with the remnants of wreckage from the ships, with Ahsoka and Rex for company. They sat around a fire, Rex had long drifted to sleep, and he found himself with his former apprentice, in silence, staring at the cackling flames that would warm them through the cold night.

He looked at her intently, actually seeing her for the first time in so long, buried as he had been in his own sorrow. Finally, he realized that she was just as sad as he was and that she had lost just as much as he had and Anakin knew that, despite having lost so much, he had not lost it all.

Maybe he didn’t have to be broken hearted alone.

After all, they still had each other, and while they had each other, they could fight. They would do it together, as they always had. He was not sure how or even why, he wasn’t certain he would ever have the strength to fight for anything again, but if he ever did, he did not have to do it alone.

Anakin rummaged through the small pouch on his belt; it had been so long since she left, but he had always carried it with him; never finding in himself to leave it behind or throw it away; never finding the will to let go.

He held the string of beads in his palm, the symbol of his connection with his Padawan, the physical evidence of their friendship. He searched inside his mind, their bond remained intact despite everything. For the first time in so long Anakin reached into the Force and slightly tugged at it, sending her a call, as he had done so many times before.

Ahsoka’s eyes widened and she looked at him, surprised, as if she had forgotten it was there. He had almost forgotten it. He managed to smile at her, it was not an exuberant smile, not even a joyful one, but it was the best he could muster.

He held the beads in his hand as his smile faded. “There is so much I haven’t told you.” He said, finally. “I should have. I kept so many secrets that I became buried in them and it almost cost me everything. But I realize now, that I didn’t lose everything. Obi-Wan is gone, Padmé and our child are gone. But you’re not gone. You’re still here.”

Anakin watched as a tear slid down Ahsoka’s cheek. “I’ll always be here, Master.”

“I know.” The Jedi smiled again. “And I will always be here.”

Anakin held out his hand and showed her the beads she had placed in his hand so long ago. “Will you come back? Please?”

Ahsoka looked at the string laid on her Master’s palm and she took them and placed them on her head, where they used to be. “I’ve never really left.”

* * *

He watched Padmé leave, dragged away by the guard. He watched as the door closed behind her, snuffing away the sound of her voice that kept calling his name.

_Was it even his name anymore?_

He stared at the door, unwilling to look away. He thought he should feel some kind of relief for keeping his promise to Anakin, after all, he had always been a man of his word.

But what he felt was anything but relief.

What he felt was… emptiness?

“Lord Menis?” He heard a fatherly tone spoken in an acid, coarse voice. The voice of his new Master.

“Lord Menis?” It spoke once more, but somehow it didn’t seem like it was directed at him, for some reason, he didn’t seem to recognize the name.

The voice said the name for the third time, this time more demanding, definitely imperative. “Lord Menis!” It shouted and he realized that was who he was now.

He was not Obi-Wan Kenobi, he was not a Jedi Master.

Now he went by a different name: Darth Menis, Dark Lord of the Sith.

Finally he tore away his eyes from the door and looked at Sidious, acknowledging that he was really that _thing._ “Yes?” He replied, feeling his voice break.

The Sith Lord glowered at him, chastising him. He knew why. “Yes, Master?” He corrected himself and the Sith smiled warmly, placing a gentle yet ice-cold hand on his elbow.

The new Sith apprentice felt himself in some sort of state of stasis as he was being led by Darth Sidious. He heard him speak to him, but could barely register what was being said. As they crossed the room to the exit, his eyes fixed on the floor and he looked at the bodies of the children he had just slain.

_They were so small._

He kept looking back at them, hardly processing that it was his handiwork, and yet painfully aware of it.

His Master kept pushing forward, and they reached a corridor and, as he still looked back, the door closed again, blocking those children from his view.

He should feel sympathy, pain, but there was nothing.

Averting his eyes forward he allowed himself to be led by the Sith, he had stopped speaking, probably aware that his words were not being heard.

The place they were in was like a maze, but he remembered entering a turbolift and, as it moved, he could not discern whether it was ascending or descending. The Sith released his elbow and his apprentice leaned his back against the cold metal wall.

It seemed like it had taken a very long time until the turbolift finally stopped, but as he looked at the display he realized that they were only two floors above his prison.

The metal doors opened and, without thinking, he followed Sidious into another maze of corridors and turns that all looked the same, grey and dull and lifeless.

Darth Sidious led him into a room that contrasted with the hallways so much he seemed to suddenly have entered another planet.

It was decorated in dark brown tones, pieces of art ornated the walls and the large bed in the middle seemed warm and inviting. It was large, larger than his apartment in the Jedi Temple. There was a room with a sofa and a table, four chairs around it. It even had a small kitchen adjacent to the living space.

He wondered, had anyone lived there before? Was this was new home? Was this his new cell?

Sidious gave him a slight push inside. “Lord Menis.” He said once more.

“Yes, Master?” he found himself replying.

The Sith sighed, a look of feigned sympathy adorned his deformed features. “I know you are tired, my boy. Rest, I will send droids to tend to your wounds and to bring you a warm meal. Tomorrow your instruction begins.”

Then he was left alone, he would say that he was alone with his thoughts, but there were no thoughts in him, there were no feelings, no sensations.

The Force was still around him, as if it was dead, dead like Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He dragged himself to the refresher and, as he walked in, he discerned a person in the large mirror, someone foreign, someone he did not recognize. He looked at it, facing the reflection of this strange man.

He wore tattered and dirty Jedi robes, his beard was long, his eyes and cheeks sunken in. Removing his clothes he realized that the person in the mirror was emaciated, his ribs protruded from his overly pale skin, almost greyish. A gaping cauterized hole was on his shoulder, it seemed to be there for some time even though it was barely healed.

He stepped closer to the mirror and he observed that man. That man was not him, but he was someone he was now recognizing. That was Obi-Wan Kenobi, not the lively, sarcastic, alive one. But his shadow, his corpse, the remnants of who he had been, the last bit of him, shriveled and decaying. A fool, a weakling, a traitor, a murderer.

The rage he had felt earlier returned with a vengeance and his eyes burned gold.

He screamed from deep within him and he felt hatred for the man in that mirror, the man he had once been, the man who had betrayed everything he had ever believed in, who had thrown all his principles away, who had killed the people he was meant to protect.

And for what? _For what?_

It hardly mattered, because he hated him! He hated him! And he couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. So he closed his eyes and he reached for the force, screaming away his pain he grabbed on to his anger and he listened as the mirror shattered into a million pieces, scattering across the floor.

Then he opened his eyes, and he was gone. Obi-Wan Kenobi was finally gone.

Darth Menis turned on the water to the shower and picked a piece of glass from the floor. He bathed himself of the remnants of his past, he cut his beard and his hair. The face he had seen on that mirror, he never wished to see again, not ever.

He would not be like him, he’d be strong, he’d be powerful, he’d protect the ones he loved, not slay them, not fail them like Obi-Wan Kenobi had failed everyone.

He spent a long time under the water, purging himself from his past, from his weakness, letting it flow away with the water into the underground. And when he left, he left anew. He left without a past, only a future to look forward to.

His wounds were tended, he downed his meal and dressed the clothes that had been laid out for him. Black clothes, like what was inside of him.

That night Lord Menis lay on a plush bed, in the midst of soft silk sheets. That night he slept for the first time in a very long time. That night he dreamt of the cries of children, of blood and death, he dreamt of fallen Jedi and of burning flames. He dreamt of war and fear and hate, of bombs ravishing cities and of soldiers falling in battle.

In the morning he would endeavor to forget his dreams, to erase all of his pain.

All he needed was time; and time was all he had.


	10. Things To Be Done

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How long has it been since I updated??? Far too long! Unfortunately real life gets in the way of all the fun stuff. But this story not forgotten! :) Thank you to everyone who comments, subscribes, bookmarks, leaves kudos! It makes me so happy! Thank you for sticking around and I hope you enjoy and leave me your thoughts!

It was not often that Darth Sidious felt the need to alter his plans so very drastically; minor adjustments were certainly made along the way, but this, _this_ had been something quite unexpected.

He could not, however, deny that it had been quite thrilling, even though the need for the deviation had caused him some grief and a sense of failure that he was not used to feeling and that he despised completely. In the end, he concluded, it was worth it.

The situation, certainly, was not ideal. Anakin was, in fact, the strongest of the Force users. But, Sidious thought, he could have picked worse.

Surely his new apprentice was no Chosen One, but very few among the Jedi Order could compare to him. Maybe only Yoda and Windu themselves, and of the latter he had some doubts, even though he was considered the best swordsman in the Jedi Order after late Dooku’s departure from their ranks, seeing how easy it was for the clones to kill him on Utapau made Sidious feel that his reputation was perhaps slightly inflated.

What made it thrilling, however, was not the former Jedi Master’s competence; but the fact that he was so annoyingly perfect!

To see that perfection crack was one of the most fulfilling moments in Sidious’ life; he imagined what it would’ve been like to have young Skywalker bow at his feet and it would have been satisfactory, for sure. But to have Obi-Wan Kenobi doing his bidding, the poster boy of the Jedi Order, the Jedi Master, perfectly cool, collected, detached, youngest member ever to be appointed to the Jedi Council, was nothing more than an unprecedented triumph.

And it was so utterly unexpected.

Yes, it was a moment to be remembered for years to come; a triumph of incomparable measure and the personification of the fall of the Jedi Order itself and a great addition to the Sith line.

Sidious had been impressed with the Jedi Master. He had seen him fight before, but only when he faced him did he realize what an extraordinary adversary he was. Sidious had to sweat for that victory, which was more than he could say for most Jedi. Kenobi was precise, disciplined, deadly and, in that moment, as he grasped the desperation that raged within him, he was even more powerful. If he would to harvest his anger, his pain, there would be no stopping him.

Yes, Darth Sidious was quite satisfied with his new apprentice.

He had no time to waste anymore. It had taken time to break Kenobi, a man with such deep roots in the light needed to be carefully coaxed into giving in to his despair, and Sidious had been without a learner for far too long and there were things to be done, armies to be led, planets to be taken, traitors to be pursued, Jedi to be killed.

“Lord Menis!” Sidious exclaimed, as he opened the door and walked inside the small dwellings where he had left his Sith student the previous night, finding him awake and sat alone at a table, eating the meager food that the droid had brought him, “I am glad to see you are ready to begin your training.”

He saw it, the slight wince, barely detectable and yet unmistakable. There was still much work to be done, but there was yet to be a man in the Galaxy that Darth Sidious could not break.

* * *

This was his life now.

Lord Menis was the name he was called, every day. But he did not know exactly how many days he had been there; he hardly cared anyway.

The dark side was nothing like he had imagined. Surely he had touched it before, in that fight so long ago with Maul. But he had shut it away and purged it from himself. But now, he opened himself to it, he let it flow through him, inundate him with its power and allure and he understood now, he understood why it was so easy to give in, he understood why there was no way out.

All the guilt, all the sorrow, the Dark Side pushed them away, freeing him from the shackles that had held him back for so long.

It was a path of freedom. He understood the Code, his Master had made him recite it over and over again, in the hopes of erasing the old one from his memory.

_Peace is a lie. There is only Passion._

_Through Passion I gain Strength._

_Through Strength I gain Power._

_Through Power I gain Victory._

_Through Victory my chains are Broken._

_The Force shall free me._

He said it again and again, aloud and in his own mind. He memorized it, interiorized it, made it his own. Because that was all he wanted, he wanted to be free, free from his pain and his remorse and his sorrow.

And he was, most of the time.

Sometimes he forgot it, sometimes he had nightmares of that fateful night, sometimes he closed his eyes and heard the screams of children, sometimes he felt like he was guilty, he felt that he would drown himself in his own pain.

But then he said it again and again and again. And the more pain he felt, the angrier he was. At himself, at his Master, at Anakin, at the Jedi, at everything.

And the angrier he felt the deeper he sunk into it, into the comfort of the Dark Side, into its coldness and unfeelingness; because if he felt nothing, he could not feel pain.

Everyday he trained with his Master, they had created a bond. It was nothing like the bond he had with Anakin; the technique was the same, surely, but it felt so very different; he was always there, his darkness pouring within him, fueling his own, drowning him with its raw power.

He could still recall his bond with Anakin, the one that was now irrevocably severed. It felt warm, comforting and often so very troubled and demanding and Anakin’s presence was hot like a shining sun, capable of engulfing everything within its light. The bond with Sidious however, felt like a volcano, furious and explosive, with such incredible destructive power, but so so alluring, a beautiful view that he couldn’t stop himself from looking at. It was a heavy presence, sometimes even overwhelming. But, at the same time, it was safe, certain. It transmitted him a path; a path he never thought he would be following, but that could only end in victory and strength.

They meditated together, deep in the Dark Side. That’s when the power of the Dark Side felt more overwhelming, almost infinite. When it crept in the far reaches of his mind and allowed him to release all the anger he had within him, all the pain, all the doubt. Not into the Force, no, but outwardly, into the world, making them not disappear but transform into something greater.

Often he forgot about everything and he was just Lord Menis, his entire past deleted from his mind and his heart, and he could feel the rawness of the Dark Side without limitations.

Oh, Darth Menis understood that only through that power would he ever be free, free of everything and everyone, free even of himself, of the man he had been, of the Jedi, of Sidious.

Yes, even of Sidious. He had no love for his Master, what he was he had become because of him and, Lord Menis knew, he was nothing more than a scheming bastard who would do anything for the ultimate power.

But that power would be his one day and then he would take it and destroy him, and he would make the Galaxy what it should be and rule it in his own way. Then all of those he loved would finally be free, Anakin, Padmé, the children he knew she had given birth to the day he gave himself to the Sith.

In a perfect Galaxy, maybe Anakin would join him and rule with him, maybe he could become his apprentice again, like he had been so long ago. Maybe it could all be like it used to be, maybe they could be brothers again and his young apprentice would not have to hide his love for Padmé, or his children.

Yes, one day, Darth Menis would give his brother everything he ever wanted.

Meanwhile he would have to learn everything he could, he would have to do his Master’s bidding and one day, he would be ready, ready to make the Galaxy a better place.

One day.

However, today, was a different day.

He looked in the mirror that morning. He realized how different he looked, without his beard he looked a decade younger, and the blue of his eyes had been replaced by yellow from sinking so deeply into the darkness.

This was who he was now. Darth Menis, Dark Lord of the Sith. And today was his last test.

He dressed that morning in the uniform that had been provided for him, it was dark and flamboyant, so much like Jedi robes and yet so different. He put the mask that had been provided for him by his Master, concealing his identity was paramount, after all.

No one wanted a Jedi traitor in charge of the imperial fleet.

His eyes could still be seen, but they were unrecognizable and the hood that was over his head engulfed most of his features into shadows.

Even his voice was different in the mask, not like a droid, but almost muffled and low, though it did nothing to hide his deep rooted Coruscanti accent.

For all intents and purposes, Obi-Wan Kenobi was dead. Nothing in the man that stood in front of that mirror was even reminiscent of the Jedi Master.

Lord Menis walked into the training room, almost in his final form. His Master awaited him, sat upon a throne.

He spoke no words, he needed none. Darth Menis bowed and knelt, laying his old Jedi lightsaber in front of him. He closed his eyes, allowing the darkness to drown him and all his thoughts. The lightsaber floated and disassembled in front of him, its crystal in the middle, spinning around violently.

The Sith apprentice delved deeper into the Dark Side, in his mind he created a bridge between it and the crystal, and he poured all his pain, all his sorrow, all his anger and frustration into the Force. He made the crystal feel all his guilt and all the death that had followed him all his life, he made it feel the pain of almost being dejected from the Jedi Order, the loss of Qui-Gon, the loss of the Order, the loss of Anakin, the pain in Padmé’s voice, the death of those children, by his hand and of all the others that had come after, during his excruciating training, all of the Jedi he was made to execute, prisoners he killed while almost in a daze. He showed the crystal the death of Satine, his beloved, the greatest of sorrows that had been buried deep within him for so long, pent up over months and months, like a good Jedi should do. And the more he broadcasted these feelings into the Force, the more the crystal spun, the more it cried, the more it bled, and suddenly, even though his eyes were closed, he knew it shone bright red.

The lightsaber parts assembled and he called it to his hand, standing he ignited it, it’s scarlet light invaded the room.

Darth Sidious stood and smiled. “Very well, my young apprentice. Now, you are a true Sith.”

That day Lord Menis finally left his cage, he was honored by the Galaxy as millions of reporters, senators and citizens gathered around their Emperor as he introduced them to his new right hand, the new Supreme Commander of the Imperial Fleet.

The next day he visited Padmé, before finally taking control of his fleet. There was no time to lose, there were things to be done, armies to be led, planets to be taken, traitors to be pursued, Jedi to be killed.

_Power to be gained._

* * *

The sound was absolutely and utterly amazing. The engines roaring through the skies, the ship that floated above their heads into the atmosphere was the most welcome sight he had in months.

They all jolted upwards at the sight of that beautiful thing. It was their only hope of getting off that Force-forsaken rock.

They ignored the cuts and bruises the wild plant life of the planet gave them as they trekked in full speed towards the ship that could be their only ticket off their current predicament.

It took them almost the entire day to reach it, it had landed quite far from their position. But they went restlessly, knowing that there was nothing of interest to keep anyone in that planet for too long.

Anakin knew he should be wary, he was probably a wanted man, and so were Rex and Ahsoka. But the Force told him to go, told him to run towards it, guiding him towards his path.

It was curious how, after letting go of all his anger, the Force felt so much clearer, as if a veil had lifted from it. Surely the shroud of the dark side remained, but his connection with the Force had altered, it had become unblemished, harmonious. A constant guide in a place filled with darkness.

The time he had spent there was something he never knew he needed, but loneliness and time had allowed him to let go, not of the people he loved or his attachments like the Jedi Order had always told him to do, but of his own fear, of his own selfish needs for them.

He realized that, all those years, he cared more about how he would feel if he lost those whom he loved than he cared about them.

And that was not love, not really. Love was to let go when the time came and to hold on when was needed.

Surely, the pain of losing Padmé, their child and Obi-Wan was almost unbearable for him, almost crippling. But the Force showed him that the worst thing he could do to them was not honor their legacies and teachings; and their legacies were nothing but strength, kindness, generosity, freedom.

So that was what he would do, he would honor them and their fight, he would practice every lesson, he would do whatever they would do. Through him, they would leave their marks on the Galaxy, through him, his unborn child would live on, Padmé’s ideals would spread to every corner, and Obi-Wan’s Jedi teachings would revive the Jedi Order.

For them to be remembered as they should be Anakin would do everything. So would Ahsoka, so would Rex: the only family he had left.

So Anakin ran towards that ship, so he could do everything they would want him to do, and, like that day on Tatooine, he never looked back.

The ship was quite familiar, as was the presence he sensed within the Force. He knew that person, he was not sure if he should be happy about that particular surprise visitor, but certainly he was content that, somehow, they would be able to leave.

The bushes and the night sky hid their presences as the trio watched the band of pirates perform repairs on the Corona-class armed frigate. Hondo Ohnaka sat on top of a speeder, drinking and spitting orders at his men, who seemed less than pleased about following them.

“Master,” he heard Ahsoka’s voice, “this guy is bad news.”

“I agree, Sir.” Rex offered.

Well, Anakin agreed as well, but there was no one else around, so they had little choice in the matter. “He might be bad news, but he’s the only ride out of here. Besides, we can’t take too long. Maul probably sighted the ship as well, I don’t think it’ll take him too long to cut down all these folks and run out with it.”

He heard Ahsoka sigh beside him and sensed her wariness through the Force. “So, what’s the plan?” She asked.

What was the plan? He didn’t have one. He had hoped the mysterious travelers would be strangers and that they could pass off as random people who had accidentally crashed. But they had no such luck. However, despite knowing that Hondo was a backstabbing, greedy criminal, he had to recognize that he had respect for the Jedi.

“We wait. He’s drunk already, soon the rest of them will be too. We need a word with Hondo alone.”

And wait they did and, as predicted, soon enough the party begun and the remainder of the crew began downing cheap brandy and singing their way into a drunken stupor. It was not long before they started falling asleep in random positions, some of them next to their own vomit. It certainly was not a pleasant sight to be seen.

They silently made their way out of the bushes and towards the speeder where Hondo Ohnaka had passed out in, hugging his empty bottle and with his feet propped over the dashboard.

It was in the dead of silence that Rex put his hand over Hondo’s mouth and dragged him from the speeder and into the vegetation where they had been hiding during the last few hours. Of course, their new prisoner awoke immediately but, as Anakin knelt before him and gestured him to stay silent, the recognition on his features was quick and he nodded in compliance. Rex removed his hand and the shock in the pirate’s face became even more prominent.

“You are alive?” He asked. The fact that it was actually a question made Anakin’s heart sink.

“I am, and we need your help.” Anakin replied, and Hondo’s surprised expression vanished, his usual air of arrogance returned and he stood, patting the leaves and branches off his clothes.

“My friend,” he said, “colluding with Jedi, in this day in age, is hardly a profitable endeavor. One might say it can actually cost you your head.”

“I understand that. I’m sure the Chancellor…” His words were interrupted by the pirate’s most earnest laughter.

“Chancellor?” He said in between giggles. “He is Emperor now. The Republic is gone, my friend. The Jedi are all dead and you will probably soon follow. Why should I help you? As you know, I am very cautious with my own life.”

A silence settled between the group. Emperor? He had actually proclaimed himself Emperor? How much more had changed since that dreadful day? What Galaxy were they living on?

“I see you did not know. Well, my very dear Jedi, you might very well be the last of your kind and, I assure you, neither of you will probably last very long.”

“Listen here you scumbag…” the young Togruta began.

“Ahsoka, that’s enough!” The Padawan’s voice was silenced at once. “Hondo, I know we have had our disagreements. But I also know that, deep within, there is an honorable man, a man who respected the Jedi, even if we were considered enemies. I ask you to please aid us now. I will forever be in your debt.”

Hondo sighed and hesitated. Finally he made one of his characteristic flamboyant gestures and smiled. “Well, I can’t say I like this new Empire. I feel that it will ruin my business. Perhaps we can come to an understanding. I give you a place in my ship and take you away from this rock and, when I need you, you will come and rescue me from the imperials.”

“You have my word.”

“Very well, let us not waste time.” Silently the pirate led them into the ship and placed them in his quarters, away from the sight of the rest of the crew, who would be happy to give them in to the Empire for the bounties that would probably make them rich.

The stowaways heard as Hondo barked at his men to stand up and get moving. It was not long before they were flying into space and Ohnaka came in with a long rage communication device.

The three sat around it, wondering who and where to call. They had to have some allies out there, somewhere. They tried Jedi frequencies, to no avail, as suspected. Military frequencies resulted in nothing but some imperial chatter. Most of them didn’t work anyway, they had probably changed all communications codes.

“Sir?” Rex said, after hours of attempts, often interrupted by Hondo who was less than confortable about having two Jedi in his ship. “What about the randomized emergency frequencies? Maybe we could try that.”

It was an old system or random frequencies that changed often according to an algorithm. It hadn’t been used during the war at all, but Anakin knew it from his studies in the Temple, and apparently the Kaminoans had made sure to teach them to the clones.

Carefully Anakin programed the device and the random frequencies began operating, one by one. There was nothing, but they persisted. It was a long shot, but worth trying. If they could find no one they would just have to decide where to go randomly.

“This is useless!” Ahsoka sighed, frustrated.

“Patience Snips.” Anakin said, despite being, himself, running out of hope.

Suddenly an unfamiliar voice rose from the comm, it was a synthesized voice, altered to be unrecognizable in case the wrong people heard it.

_“Unfortunately the Republic has fallen, but there are those of us who have not lost hope. If any Jedi survived this tragedy, please make contact over the current frequency.”_

“This is Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker. Please, we need help.”

No one on the other side answered, all they received were coordinates and in the Force Anakin felt relief.


	11. The Beginning Of Something Greater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, here is the new one. Considerably quicker than the last. I hope you guys enjoy and leave me your thoughts. Thank you so much for all your comments and everything. It's so great to read and see!

Alderaan was so beautiful that time of year, Bail Organa thought, as he looked at the view from his study’s window. Winter had arrived, the mountains around were painted white, and yet the sun shone brightly and the skies seemed bluer against the landscape.

He smiled when, in the distance, he heard her laughter. These days, that sound was the only thing that gave him some reprieve from the dreaded feelings and memories he experienced.

The First Galactic Empire had been established about two standard months before and, since that day, so much had changed. Too much had changed.

The Senate, although still functioning, was nothing but a front, having been deprived of most of its power; the army and fleet had been reorganized; each sector had been granted a Moff who acted through several governors in each system; non-compliant internal governments had been destitute of all power; vocal people had disappeared without a trace.

Those were dangerous times to be living in and hope was a scarce commodity.

Much had happened since the fateful night when he watched the destruction of the Jedi Order and the Republic with his own eyes.

With two children in his speeder Bail had not dared return to his apartment in Coruscant and immediately took them to his ship. The _Tantive IV_ had been expecting him, since he had scheduled to leave Coruscant that very day.

All hope was not lost and Bail, along with his men, were able to locate and rescue Master Yoda, who, like his fellow Jedi, was on the run.

The next few days had been eventful enough. While he sat in the Senate listening to the atrocities the Jedi had allegedly committed, while he watched the recording of Master Kenobi enter the Senate building to assassinate Palpatine, which led to the subsequent order of execution of all the Jedi, Bail had to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat and stay silent, for he knew the old Jedi Master was in the now burnt Jedi Temple, attempting to salvage as much as he could.

It had been an inglorious effort, however, because all he had acquired had been a couple of lightsabers as souvenirs and a handful of holocrons; most of it had been destroyed and burnt to a crisp and time was too short for a more thorough search of the place.

After that, in Alderaan, he remembered sitting at a round table, the old Jedi Master at his side, rendered even older for the pain in his heart and mind. He watched as Yoda rubbed at his wrinkly forehead, thinking of what to do. But it was hard to think of a plan when the entire Galaxy had turned upside down so suddenly.

At some point, the Grandmaster finally spoke, yet he did so with little resolve, clearly plagued by what he thought was his own failure. But what he said gave Bail little solace. He had expected to hear that Yoda would attempt to overthrow the Empire, he had expected a grand plan for freedom and equality. But what he heard he could only surmise as an admission of defeat.

Yoda announced his exile to unknown place. _“Until the time comes”,_ he said; whatever that meant. Young Zett was to accompany the oldest of Jedi Masters and, when nothing was said of the fate of little Mara Jade, as he now knew she was called, as Yoda seemed to know the name of every single being who resided within the Temple walls, Bail promptly offered to adopt and raise the little one.

It would be dangerous, surely, and Breha would be a little more than surprised, but they had never been able to conceive. His dear wife’s health would not permit it, and yet, they had always dreamed of having a little girl.

Documents would have to be forged, trails would have to be fabricated. But it did not matter. Mara was the only good thing that had arisen from the nightmare he found himself living in.

Afterwards, and of his own accord, Bail decided to look for people across the Galaxy who could aid in putting an end to Palpatine’s tyranny. So he used an old system to send a message across the Galaxy; a message of hope, an offer for help and a request for it too. For Jedi and freedom fighters needed each other now.

However, two months later, not a single contact had been made and it was becoming more and more dangerous to keep the transmission available, now that the Empire was slowly tightening its grip on those who opposed them, even if silently.

Bail turned his back on the beautiful view and sat at his desk. He searched through the datapads that he had brought from Coruscant just the day before. Legislation upon legislation was being passed, without any regard for the Senate. Whichever votes were taken were in minor matters that had no real consequence to the grand scheme of the Galaxy.

He took one and looked over it. The more he read it the more his stomach turned and he felt the taste of bile in his mouth. It stated the various species in the Galaxy and which rights they had. Humans reigned supreme, obviously. Twi’leks and Wookies were nothing more than property.

Senator Organa threw the offending piece of legislation aside and felt a headache coming, losing the will to do anything at all that day.

The door to his study opened without a knock, Breha let herself in carrying a smiling Mara in her arms. Just in time, in fact, for they were the only people who could brighten up his day.

“Dada,” the little one said, stretching her little arms towards him. It always warmed his heart to hear her call him that, even though she hadn’t taken long to pick up on the word after he took her home.

Standing, he took his daughter in his arms. His wife’s health was frail, and the little one weighed more than she looked.

“You look troubled, my dear.” Breha said.

Bail sighed. He was troubled indeed. Everything was troubling as of late. “I am worried Breha. It’s getting worse everyday. I don’t know what to do, but I feel like I can’t stand for this.”

His wife gave him the look she always did when something bothered him, the one that made him think that, one day, everything would be alright. She put her soft hand on his back, gently nudging him away from his office and his unwelcome duties.

“I know,” she replied, as they slowly walked through the corridors of the Royal Palace. “These are hard times, but you know that neither of us will stand for this. We must not lose hope. It will take time and work, but I know this nightmare cannot last forever.”

Bail smiled and reminded himself of why he had fallen in love. “My darling, you always seem to know the right thing to say.”

“Of course I do!” She placed a kiss on his cheek and another on their daughter’s forehead. What a beautiful family he had.

“Any contacts?” Breha asked after a pause, just as they were entering the large living room.

They sat at the bench by the balcony, the picture perfect view of the mountains surrounded them, but it was with sorrow that Bail shook his head in response.

Breha sighed as she took Mara from his lap and placed her on the floor, the little one began playing with the small flowers on her mother’s dress, trying to put them in her mouth and rip them from the skirt.

“Captain Antilles has been insisting on ending the transmission, he says it gets more dangerous by the day. I told him it was your decision.”

“I know, I know…” he replied, a tad more defensively than he should. “ I can’t believe that there are no Jedi left. I can’t believe they are all dead. We need them now more than ever.”

“That is why the Emperor destroyed them, Bail, because we need them. He was thorough.”

Bail sighed for the hundredth that day, something he often did when there was little else to say. “I know you are worried, I know we must have Alderaan’s best interests in mind, but just one more day.”

His wife smiled at him and ran a gentle hand down his cheek. “I trust you, my dear. We will transmit for as long as you feel we need to.”

A knock on the door interrupted the tender moment, and Captain Antilles entered the room without an invitation. His face was flushed and his breath caught in his throat.

Bail stood, alarmed by the state of his old friend. “Raymus, what’s wrong?”

“Sir,” the loyal captain replied, “Anakin Skywalker made contact.”

* * *

Being left in an escape pod, in the middle of nowhere, with nothing more than a holo transmitter, was less than an ideal situation.

Anakin peeked through the window for the millionth time, but there was nothing in sight but the distant bright stars. They weren’t even near a star system so, even if he wished to steer the pod to a planet in case no one came for them, there was nothing he could do. They would be condemned to drift through space until they ran out of water or air or, Force willing, be lucky enough to find someone else willing to come to their aid.

Once again, they were stranded, dependent on the will of the Force for their very survival. It was not a pleasant feeling, especially for someone like him, who had been striving for power and control ever since he remembered existing. But times surely changed his life and, alas, were beginning to change him. He had been told all his Jedi life to trust in the Force and, in that moment, he finally had no other choice.

“Maybe we should try to make contact again, Sir.” Rex’s tone was less than confident. They had been in that escape pod for hours and Hondo’s ship was long gone.

“They’ll come.” Anakin said, wanting desperately to trust in the Force that kept telling him that he was exactly where he should be. But the Force hadn’t prepared him for this; it hadn’t prepared him for this utter and complete tragedy.

Ahsoka peeked through the transparisteel once more and sighed, “What if this is a trap? We are completely unprotected and have no way of defending ourselves.”

Anakin couldn’t lie and say that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind, but, against all logic, he was determined to believe that whoever sent them there was friend rather than foe. “I don’t think it is. We must be patient, I’m sure whoever contacted us is just trying to make sure we aren’t the ones setting the trap. There is too much as stake to be reckless.” He said, trying to convince his companions as much as he tried to convince himself.

He looked at the radar display and again saw nothing. As much as he preached for patience, he was finding it hard to find it within himself. But nothing in the Force warned him of danger.

The group, who had spent more than a little time together, often found themselves with little to say to each other, and, as the hours went by, as they stood in the vastness of the empty cold space, Anakin found himself drifting to sleep.

It was funny how, despite everything that had happened, he had no prophetic dreams, no nightmares of tragedies past or future. It was a tranquil sleep, empty and restful, even if sometimes light.

A beeping sound awoke him. He looked at the escape pod’s rudimentary instruments and the radar was picking up a ship, a large one. The communications system signaled next and, without a moment’s hesitation, the young Jedi accepted the transmission.

This time, a voice that was familiar spoke and a wave of relief washed over him. “Master Skywalker?”

“Senator Organa?”

The man on the other side sighed in relief, he could almost hear him smile. “It’s so good to hear your voice. We are pulling you in.”

It was a good voice to hear indeed, Anakin thought. He remembered Obi-Wan for a moment and his deep distrust of politicians. He smiled thinking of what he would say now if he knew a politician was saving him, bringing him back into the Galaxy to fulfill whatever purpose the Force bestowed upon him.

Bail Organa, however, was no ordinary Senator. He was Padmé’s friend, they had been brought together by the same ideals and principles, by thoughts of freedom, peace and acceptance.

They felt as the tractor beam locked on to their tiny vessel and pulled them inside the large CR90 Corvette. A beautiful ship, no doubt, and a welcome sight.

It wasn’t long before Anakin was exiting the pod and setting foot in the bright corridors of the _Tantive IV._ As he did he realized they were surrounded by people. A row of soldiers in formation stood before him, with an officer and Senator Bail Organa at their front.

The Force swirled and hopped about around him, and he could see renewed hope in the faces of those men, he could see that in him, they saw a chance, even if a fleeting one.

It was an expectation that he knew not if he could live up to, but, nonetheless, it was what he had set out to do. To honor Padmé, Obi-Wan and the Jedi was to bring hope to the ones who needed it the most, despite how hard and hopeless the times they were living in were.

Suddenly he watched as the soldiers lifted their weapons and trained them on them. Out of instinct he raised his hands but soon he realized that their blasters were not pointed at him but at Rex, who had meanwhile emerged from the escape pod.

“No, he’s alright. He is with us.” Organa’s men looked at each other and their leaders for guidance and the good Senator gestured for them to lower their weapons.

“If Master Skywalker trusts him, then we trust him.” He said as he approached him, stretching out his hand. “Welcome, my friend.”

“You are a sight for sore eyes, Bail.” Anakin smiled and took Bail’s hand in his own. “I’m sure you remember Ahsoka Tano, my Padawan. And this is Captain Rex, he helped save our lives.” Senator Organa smiled fondly at the group and they heard a shrill of beeps from behind them, reminding them of his presence. “Oh and my droid, Artoo.”

* * *

His men stood at attention before him. They were the same men in different armors; but something had fundamentally changed in them, or maybe he was the one who had changed and now saw them with different eyes.

“Sir,” the company’s commander spoke, “the first battalion is ready for your orders.”

The first battalion was nothing more than the remnants of the 501st and 212th merged together. The 501st had been separated before the battle of Coruscant, sent off to Mandalore, and then they had suffered heavy losses during the assault on the Jedi Temple. The 212th, though not as badly, had taken a toll in the Battle of Utapau. It was said that Mace Windu had not gone down without a fight.

The Commander of this newly founded First Battalion he knew well, though the change he had sensed in the others was even more prominent in him. In another life they had been friends, brothers in arms. Now, both were nothing but cold shells of their former selves.

“Commander Cody, Sir. At your service.” He needlessly introduced himself, utterly unaware of the identity of the man who stood before him.

“CT-2224,” Lord Menis said, ignoring the name that once had meant companionship. They were not companions, they were not brothers in arms, they were not friends. Not anymore. Cody was a Jedi killer now, and so was Obi-Wan, so neither of them could use their former names. “Prepare your men; we are headed to Cato Neimodia. Apparently Nute Gunray and several other Separatist leaders have managed to escape from Mustafar and returned to Tarko-Se. Intelligence suggests that they have gathered a small army to protect them composed of both droids that failed to be decommissioned and Neimodians who are still loyal to the Separatist cause. Our mission is to deal with the Separatist Leaders and take control of the Trade Federation and the planet.”

“Yes Sir.” The Commander responded and the Dark Lord turned on his heels and left for the bridge of his brand new flagship. The Executor-Class Dreadnaught star destroyer and been aptly name as the _Executor_ by the Emperor and presented to him in the day of his unveiling as his right hand.

It was larger and more powerful than any Venator the Republic had had at their disposal during the Clone Wars; evidently commissioned in secret long before the end of the war. A ship such as that one was not built in a day. Another testament of how deep the Sith’s plan to take control of the Galaxy ran.

This was to be his first mission. Though they knew that several Jedi still roamed the Galaxy, the Emperor’s first priority was to quash the Separatist movement before it became something greater or transformed into a larger rebellious unit.

The control of the Trade Federation was equally important; there would be no control over the Galaxy if the companies were not under imperial rule.

Lord Menis had killed Jedi during his training. Some had once been their friends. But he couldn’t deny he was quite relieved that his first official mission implied hunting down corrupt politicians rather than his old brothers.

If there was something that Obi-Wan Kenobi and Darth Menis shared was their dislike for political figures of any kind, his own Master included, for obvious reasons.

But, alas, that was the way of the Sith.

* * *

He was happy that he wore a helmet at all times, for he couldn’t help a cringe when he was called by his serial number. CT-2224 had been his name a long time ago, the name he had been given when he was born. But it had been years since he heard it or even recognized it. It had been years since his real name was Cody, it had been years since he had been seen as a person rather than a number, at least by the people who had fought side by side with him.

He supposed that he had brought this upon himself on the day he turned against the ones who led him. That was the day he had become less than human and more an instrument for the Republic, or rather the Empire.

Often he had nightmares where he saw himself ordering his men to kill General Windu, often he heard the voice telling him to execute Order 66. Deep within him he knew those words had changed something inside him, though he did not know what. But good soldiers follow orders and he did what had to be done. He wasn’t happy about it; actually he wasn’t sure if he felt anything about it at all. But he was sure he did. Why would he have nightmares about it if he didn’t?

Cody contemplated the man that was briefing him on their first mission as the first battalion. He remembered General Kenobi and, even though he knew he was a traitor, somehow he missed him. He wasn’t sure why, but he did. Maybe because he called him Cody, maybe because before turning his back on the Empire he had been his friend.

CT-2224 heard the mission and he nodded his understanding. There was no use thinking about General Kenobi now, he was dead and Lord Menis was their new superior officer. Actually, he was everyone’s superior officer. He should be proud of serving the Emperor directly under the Supreme Commander’s orders but, for some reason, he didn’t.

Lord Menis finished his briefing and did not even wait for a word of acknowledgment as he turned his back on them.

Cody looked closely as he walked away and, even though he could hardly explain it, Lord Menis seemed so familiar yet, at the same time, he was a complete stranger.

* * *

Alderaan reminded Anakin of Naboo in so many ways. They were so incredibly different and yet so similar. The landscape, though equally beautiful, was completely unalike. So what was it that had that feel of sameness? The sense of peace that surrounded them? The aura of kindness that flowed within its people?

Yes, it was probably that. Alderaan was a place of good people where ideals of freedom and equality were ingrained into people’s minds since a young age. Just like in Naboo.

It was a welcoming place, Anakin wouldn’t mind staying there. But he knew he couldn’t.

Bail Organa had been kind enough to offer them all a place to rest and a fresh set of clothes. Anakin hardly remembered the last time he had taken a hot shower and slept on a proper bed. He was grateful for it; he was grateful for anything that resembled some sort of normalcy; that helped him forget that he had gone from hero to traitor in an instant.

The next day he sat at a round table with Bail. Ahsoka and Rex were there too. It was clearly a meeting room. Politicians were much like Jedi in certain ways; they believed important decisions had to be made in specific locations. This meeting room was a lot like the Jedi Council room, though much less intimidating.

Anakin knew why they were there and he had absolutely nothing to say; there were so many things to be done that he couldn’t fathom where to begin.

“So, what happened Senator?” Asked Ahsoka, finally breaking their silence. He supposed the past was as a good place to start as any other.

Bail ran a hand through his beard before speaking, for a moment his eyes went distant, as if recalling a far away memory. Then he retold a story of pain and blood, he told them how the Jedi Temple was raided, how he had managed to save a Padawan and a youngling, how he witnessed Shaak-Ti’s death with his own eyes. It was with a smile that he recounted the story of adopting Mara Jade into his family and with sorrow that he informed them that Master Yoda had gone into exile with young Zett.

Then, in what seemed like an endless stream of words, Bail told them about the new Empire, about its proclamation and informed of all the things that had changed.

It was a painful story, one Anakin had never expected to hear. But there they were, living and breathing it, as if it were a never-ending waking nightmare.

The Jedi Knight remained silent as Ahsoka, in turn, explained to Senator Organa their ordeal. From the events of Mandalore, to the interrogation of Darth Maul and the clones betrayal; how they had managed to save Rex from the fate of his brothers and how they finally had come to be sitting together at that round table.

A long silence followed. It was hard to move on from the past and into the future when everything seemed so bleak, when there was no glimmer of hope in sight. But it had to be done.

“What now?” Asked Rex; the one brave enough to dive into the uncertainty that awaited them all.

“We fight back!” Said his young Padawan, resolve lacing her tone. Anakin was proud of her, even if fearful of her recklessness. He taught it to her though, he supposed he had no one to blame but himself.

“Easier said than done.” Anakin nodded as he heard the Senator’s words. “We have a complication. Yesterday the Emperor introduced his new right hand, one Lord Menis. He came out of nowhere, I’d never heard of him before. If what you say is true, then this Lord Menis may be his new apprentice. Perhaps when you disappeared he decided he had no other choice but to replace you.”

“Yes, I don’t think things went exactly as he planned. But if he does have an apprentice out there doing his bidding, we have our work cut out for us.” Anakin ran a hand through his hair as he spoke and wondered who was this apprentice, who had fallen into that monsters’ clutches, who had fallen so he could be saved from the Dark Side?

“Anakin, I know the situation seems hopeless. We’ve all lost so much so suddenly. But that’s exactly why we cannot stand for this. Ahsoka is right, we must fight back. And we need you, we need the Jedi. If these people truly are Force users, you are the only ones who can stop them.” Bail paused, as if considering saying something. “Before he left Master Yoda said to look for you, Anakin. He said you were our only hope. And here we are. I’ve transmitted that signal since the day the Republic fell and I received no response, not one. Until you, until I heard your voice. You of all people must know that this is the will of the Force.”

He knew it was, he was painfully aware of it, and he had promised himself that he would follow the will of the Force and nothing else. But it provided no certain answers and no clear path. He knew he had to fight; he just didn’t know how.

“What do you propose then?”

“I propose we rebel. I propose we do whatever it takes to overthrow the Emperor and bring back peace and democracy to the Galaxy. And I propose you lead us Anakin.” Bail’s resolve was nothing short of inspiring. It made the Jedi smile.

“You are the best General in the Republic, Sir.”

Anakin couldn’t help but chuckle at Rex’s remark. “Don’t flatter me Rex, the Council went insane with my shenanigans.”

“We have little resources. If there is a time for creativity it is now. And you have creativity to spare, Master.”

Skywalker sighed and settled his elbows on the table. “That’s all very nice and all, but we don’t have little resources; we have none. The three of us can’t fight the Empire single handedly and I fear Alderaan’s Royal Guard is not enough to bring down the Emperor’s army. They have millions of clones at their disposal, an enormous fleet and two Sith Lords.”

“We are not alone, Anakin,” Bail interjected, “other systems are willing to join our cause. We’ve been trying to lay low because the Emperor is onto us. Before the end of the war we had a meeting, two thousand senators made a petition to resume peace negotiations and have the Chancellor lay down his emergency powers. Many of those Senators will turn towards the Empire now and I don’t blame them, they just want to keep their people safe. But there are others who will fight for our cause; several of them expressed this to me. Mon Mothma of Chandrilla, King Lee-Char of Mon-Cala has expressed his support, Senator Chuchi of Pantora too. And I’m sure there are many others who are willing to fight for democracy. You just tell me what we need and we make a plan. All we need is a plan and allies will follow.”

“What we need?” Anakin chuckled again. “We need men, we need ships, we need funding, we need allies, organization, officers, a base. And Force knows we could use some Jedi.”

“Very well. I will gather whatever allies we already have and we start working on funding and recruitment. Mon-Cala has a large army, maybe we can begin with their forces as a starting point. You, my friend, for the time being, can look for our base and our Jedi.” Senator Organa paused, contemplating what to say next. “This will take time; Palpatine built this empire over the course of at least thirteen years of deception. It will take time to bring down, but we must start somewhere. This just the beginning of something greater. What do you say Master Skywalker?”

Anakin smiled. “I say we this will be a long and arduous battle but the Force is always with us, my friend. We are now officially Rebels.”

For the first time since the fall of the Republic, real hope filled his heart, and the Force rejoiced around him.


	12. Jedi Hunt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this chapter took a while, but its been hard to find time to sit down and write, but I hope you enjoy it! :)  
> On a better note, OMG the ending of The Mandalorian was the coolest thing I have ever seen!!! Go Luke!!!!  
> And finallyHappy New Year my beautiful readers. May 2021 be at least a little better than 2020 and may the Force be with us all!

Small was hardly the word Lord Menis would choose to describe the considerable military force that awaited him as he reached Cato Neimoidia.

He took one step closer to the _Executor’s_ viewport and his teeth clenched under his mask, observing the certified fleet that surrounded the planet. “Launch the fighters,” he ordered, “concentrate fire on the Heavy Cruiser. And inform Coruscant that intelligence has under evaluated the dimension of the enemy forces.” Well, that was an understatement if he ever saw one.

“I sense a plot against the Empire.” He did, something was wrong about the scenery he was faced with. It was widely known that Nute Gunray was no military genius. Whatever power he held had come from his pocket, not from his brain. There were other forces at work there.

Lord Menis closed his eyes and delved deep within the Dark Side, its suffocating embrace encapsulating all of his being as he projected his mind across time and space and ordered the Force to show him his enemies. The familiarity of the Force signatures he sensed was nothing short of surprising.

Such was his luck; what he had expected to be a simple enough mission had just turned into a Jedi hunt; and not an easy one at that.

He opened his eyes and took a deep breath; this was not a battle he had prepared for. He watched as the TIE fighters engaged the mix match of fighters that had emerged from the enemy ships. What an extraordinary assortment of vessels; droid fighters, neimoidian, Techno Union starfighters. What was less extraordinary was the enemies’ battle prowess. There were no strict formations and no clear communication between each of the fighters. It was nothing but a haphazardly makeshift squadron.

The imperial TIEs on the other hand moved like a well-oiled machine, fast and decisive, organized and meticulous almost to perfection.

A splendid sight indeed, especially for a man such as himself, who had always valued method and efficiency.

“Torpedo incoming!” He heard the announcement, but hardly moved as the _Executor_ shook to its core with the impact.

“Shields are still holding!” The officer announced.

“All cannons fire on the Cruiser. We must destroy it, or we will not last long.” Though the _Executor_ was a far superior ship, it was still insufficient to take down one heavy cruiser and three dreadnoughts. He knew that, unless at least the Cruiser was down, they would not stand a chance.

However, to retreat on his first mission was absolutely out of the question. The punishment would be far too severe. He had no choice but to persevere.

“Captain, have you contacted Coruscant?” He asked.

“Yes, Sir. Reinforcements are on their way.” The question that lingered in his mind was whether or not they would reach them in time. “Lord Menis, with all due respect, we should retreat.”

For the first time he looked at his Captain. He was right, but he couldn’t help the disdain that had taken control of him. The disaster that this mission was turning out to be made Darth Menis’ blood boil; he wanted nothing more than to release his anger and frustration on someone. Ozzel was as good a recipient as any other. Lord Menis did not even lift his hand, yet, as he clenched his fits and called upon the Dark Side of the Force, he witnessed as his captain’s colour drained from his face and the air was sucked from his lungs. “I will take that under advisement.” He replied cooly. The remainder officers in the bridge attempted to avert their gaze from the cruel scene, but watching as man died always brought up a sordid curiosity to the minds of men; so they looked through the corner of their eyes. The Dark Lord could feel the fear in them, almost paralyzing them.

He released the man before his heart stopped and watched him slumping to the ground, gasping for breath.

“Order the fighters to destroy the Cruiser’s shield generators. Intensify fire.”

“Yes, Sir.” He heard the voice of the Lieutenant. He couldn’t, for the life of him, remember the man’s name.

He watched closely as the battle unfolded before him. In a perfect triangle the TIE fighters flew towards the heavy cruiser’s main hangar bay. Perfectly synchronized they blasted the shield generator.

“All cannons fire now.” Lord Menis ordered. Before him the large ship erupted into eye pleasing fireworks and slowly crumpled to pieces.

“Engage the Dreadnought on the left flank. I will go planetside; cover our entry.” With that, he turned his back and headed to the hangar bay, where the First Batallion awaited him.

* * *

The cloud of slightly acidic fog that surrounded him constricted his lungs. He coughed but returned his eyes to the sky again. He gripped his lightsaber hilt tighter in his hand when he saw the star destroyer above, completely overwhelming the small fleet that they had been able to gather in the last weeks.

The stench of the dark side emanated from it; he knew it so very well. He had always brushed it, toyed with its blurry frontiers. He had always felt a pull to it, maybe he had been too aggressive or unorthodox, as they called him in the Temple. But he had managed to stay rooted in the light, even though often his missions had made him have to pretend to be someone he was not.

Not long before he had almost succumbed to its allure, almost fallen into Dooku’s trap. It cost him his position as an undercover agent for the Jedi Order and he couldn’t deny that he missed operating from the shadows. But there was no hiding himself anymore, not after _that_ mission, the one that had almost cost him his very soul.

“Quinlan,” Luminara’s soft voice called him and he looked away from the sky. He regarded her, they’d been together in Kashyyyk, in the thick of battle, when the clones turned on them. Somehow, together, they had managed to escape, even if with a few scratches and bruises. “Do you feel it? The Dark Side?”

Quinlan Vos nodded. He felt it approaching, its familiar coldness invaded his senses. Something foul was heading their way. That had been their purpose all along, to lure the Sith to them, to fight them and end them once and for all or, more likely, to die trying.

 _There is no try._ He reminded himself of one of the first lessons he had been taught by Master Yoda, when he was nothing but a youngling. His eyes closed for a moment, wondering what had happened to the old Master. He hoped against hope that, like them, he had managed to escape the trap on Kashyyyk.

“One of us has to survive this.” Sorrow laced Luminara’s voice.

“If it means ending a Sith, I will gladly lay down my life.” He would, he was still on that brink as he had always been. A mixture between a desire for justice and vengeance. The flash of pain he had felt when he sensed Aayla’s death ignited momentarily within him. He took a deep breath, attempting to qualm the anger within him, the anger that always lingered, that was always prepared to rear its ugly head but that he had so carefully been able to keep under control.

Except then, except in that moment.

The dark side grew closer and he dreaded to think that he had almost become that, that he could be the beast in that fleet, that he could be the one kneeling at the Emperor’s feet, that he was almost enslaved by him.

“They’re coming, we must prepare.” He said as he turned, the fog around him grew thicker as he walked inside, as if an ominous cloud followed them to their fates.

Luminara grabbed his arm, she pulled him closer. “One of us _must_ survive. We cannot allow the Jedi to die with us.”

Quinlan looked into her deep blue eyes and smiled. “So long as there is the Force, the Jedi will never die.”

* * *

Lord Menis ordered the gunships to fire upon the scattered troops that surrounded the Trade Federation headquarters building; there weren’t many of them and, like their ships, they were nothing but a makeshift army, composed of both droids, neimoidians and other species that had joined the last ditch cause of the separatists.

Well, not really the separatists, for the Dark Side Apprentice knew there were Jedi with them. An unlikely alliance, certainly, but he should have expected it.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” he mumbled under his breath as he watched the clones taking down the unorganized troops from the sky. The smoke of the bombs mixed with Cato Neimoidia’s constant fog made it almost impossible to see to the ground. But he was never blind, for the Dark Side of the Force allowed him to see everything clearly. More clearly than ever.

Even before the ship landed, the Dark Lord jumped onto one of the bridges that connected the city together, his boots were immediately engulfed by the thick fog as he ran towards the building where he sensed the Jedi and their traitorous companions.

He took a deep breath and let the Dark Side of the Force invade him; he felt its power coursing through his veins, a power he had never experienced before. It made him feel invincible, capable of anything. It allowed him to forget his past and be oblivious to the future. Everything went away while he dove into that power, and the more he did it, the deeper his connection was, impossible to let go of.

Lord Menis swept his scarlet blade through the droids that crossed his path, like he had done so many times before, in another time, in another life. The same men that followed him before now ran at his heels, but they were different. They didn’t chat or laugh, they were killing machines, all of them, and Darth Menis was no exception.

He looked up at the sky for a moment, the darkness of the night allowed him to watch the battle raging in space. If one did not know what it was, he would seem like a beautiful exhibition of light and fire.

The _Executor_ had now the company of another star destroyer and he watched as one of the Separatist Dreadnaughts exploded and began its ultimate and flaming descent onto the planet; he also sensed the lives lost within.

Not long before he would have mourned them; not anymore. He had learned that it made him weak, for those feelings had cost him everything he had ever had. He had learned that he could not mourn; that he could not pity those who put themselves in the path of his blade. That he had to do anything to achieve his purpose.

What his purpose was exactly he hardly knew. He barely remembered that when he allowed the Dark Side to dominate him he did it to save Anakin and his family. But it dwelled in the back of his mind; the love he felt for them, for his brother, for his brother’s children.

He put the thought away, stored it within the confines of his mind, alongside everything he needed to keep locked in to allow him to be the person he needed to be; the merciless Sith, the killer, the hunter.

Someone had to do it; what had he to lose?

He would bring peace to his Empire. He would end the war, he would do everything he had set out to so many years before; he was only taking a different path.

_Wasn’t he?_

Darth Menis entered the Trade Federation’s building, leaving a path of death and destruction in his wake. He looked back and he saw them, partially hidden by the thick fog that lied close to the ground, the bodies of the soldiers wearing an assortment of uniforms, the droid parts scattered and almost piling on top of each other. Some of his men lied lifeless as well, but, just like all the others, he would not mourn them, nor would he rejoice for them to have joined the Force.

He felt… nothing.

Which, in the end, was much better than feeling anything.

_Wasn’t it?_

There were no more reasons to look back; so the Dark Lord continued his path into the building.

He looked around him, his footsteps echoed on the tall marbled walls and floors and he made his path towards the large double doors right ahead. Some attempted to stop him, all failed.

Darth Menis tightened the grip on the hilt of his weapon and closed his eyes, just for a moment, calling again to the Dark Side, filling himself even further with its might. He waved his hand and the doors opened.

What he saw did not surprise him, he had sensed their presence before. Two ignited lightsabers, one green and one blue, reflected on the marble and perfectly polished walls.

“Master Unduli, Master Vos,” He spat and bestowed them a mocking bow. If only they knew how weak they were, how weak he used to be, “what a lovely surprise.”

He heard his men behind him, training their blasters on the Jedi. Without him saying a word the clones fired. They didn’t stand a chance; this was not like Order 66, they weren’t being caught off guard, they weren’t being betrayed by the people that they trusted, they saw it coming, not also with the Force but also with their minds.´

They were competent, both of them. More than competent, actually. He knew them very well. Deep within the confines of his mind he remembered being in the crèche with Quinlan, they had grown up together, quite literally, having been brought to the Temple at almost the same time, having been in the same clan until it was time to become Padawans. He recalled that his first trip to Ilum had been with him by his side.

But that was another life, another time, a time that no longer existed and those were memories of a man who was dead and buried.

Although he had known Quinlan Vos to be a man of far too many words, it was without an announcement that he watched him lunge at him with his emerald blade, a layer of anger clouded his eyes.

In the background he heard Luminara’s voice pleading for him to stop. He knew why, he knew she knew it was a mistake to face him alone, he knew that the only way they stood a chance against him was if they worked together. She was the more reasonable of the two, the wisest and yet, at that moment, the most helpless. She was too busy with the clones to come to his aid.

Quinlan, on the other hand, always wore his emotions on his sleeve; he had always been quick to anger and lose his focus. When they were boys he was often told that he walked too closely to the Dark Side, that he was in danger of falling into its grasp and lose his path; that he needed to be mindful of his thoughts and feelings, that they betrayed him, that they could lead them to a place of no return.

So much unlike Obi-Wan Kenobi, who had become a perfect Jedi Master, who was cool and calm, who never put his personal feelings above the mission, who was wise and strong.

And yet, Lord Menis knew, that Quinlan had been tempted and had saved himself and, unlike him, the perfect Jedi had fallen and been swallowed by the pit of darkness that was now Darth Menis.

How ironic.

Their blades clashed, and Quinlan released a guttural scream; one that meant revenge, one that was filled with pain. Lord Menis knew of Aayla’s death, he also knew the depths of the attachment Quinlan felt for his Padawan, he knew it far too well.

But, despite his rage, he was no match for Lord, not anymore, not when he was filled by the power of the Dark Side, for, unlike him, Quinlan had not allowed himself to be pulled into its grip, to be offered its strength. He remained in the light and that is why he would lose.

Lord Menis’ technique was different; it was no longer solely defense, though it was there still, as impenetrable as it was before, a shield as strong as it had ever been. But now, when the time came, he allowed all the aggression that was bottled inside him to release, not only through his blade, but also through the Force.

The Jedi leapt over him in a graceful display of his prowess, which was considerable. He landed behind him and swung his blade, but the Dark Lord’s was faster, he dashed his lightsaber blocking the blow and raised his other hand allowing the Force to flow through him. The Jedi’s left hand rose to his throat and his mouth opened, longing for the relief of breathing. His strength waned and, even though he held on to his weapon, his grip loosened. Quinlan’s feet left the ground as the Sith’s hold tightened on his throat. Mercilessly holding on, he slashed his blade and swept the Jedi Master’s arm, right above the elbow, and his hand crashed on the floor, still grasping the lightsaber.

Like Dooku had done to Anakin, so long ago.

Quinlan’s eyes widened, but he was unable to scream.

Luminara did it for him. _“No!”_ Menis heard.

He looked at her, behind the mask that hid his face he smiled, he did not know why, but he did, then he looked at Master Vos again and allowed him to breathe. He crumpled on the ground, grasping for air and holding what was left of his arm.

Darth Menis raised his blade, aiming for the Jedi’s neck. He swung it down and yet, just before he hit, a sapphire blade blocked him. It took him by surprise, surely. Luminara had been busy with the clones. And he, stupidly, had forgotten how good of a warrior she was.

The Sith leapt backwards, preparing for another duel. She stood her ground; in true Jedi fashion she did not make the first move. Impatience grew within him. He attacked, her Soresu was good, but not good enough. And she lacked the brute strength that Quinlan had. Lord Menis kept attacking, Luminara kept blocking and parrying. But this was not her first battle and her strength faltered. She failed a blow and his scarlet blade knicked her arm.

Master Unduli fell but quickly recovered, and while she did Lord Menis contemplated the scene around him. The room had filled with destroyer droids, some shot at him, but he easily diverted the blows with his blade. The stormtroopers would take care of them.

His foe resumed her stance, a familiar one. One he didn’t use anymore. Menis attacked once more, she was now obligated to hold her weapon with both her hands, due to the injury she had suffered. Her parrying was weaker and Menis knew it would not take long to defeat her.

She knew it as well. “Run!” She screamed, laying her eyes on her companion. He gasped in pain and shook his hand, tears filled his eyes. He could not fight, he knew it. And all of them knew the outcome. She was buying him time to run, like a coward.

Lord Menis could not allow it; none of them could leave that place alive. He hastened his moves, his blows were quicker but less precise, his anger rose within him, the dread of failure overcame him. Luminara kept deflecting, with great difficulty, but her technique was pristine.

“Go, now!” She pleaded with her Jedi brother. He shook his head again, in disbelief, waiting to watch what was coming. “NOW!” She yelled once more and his eyes snapped from the battle. Lord Menis watched as he grabbed his weapon with his remaining hand and stood, almost falling over. Luminara watched it too, she looked at him, and Menis did not miss the opportunity. All it took was a second, a moment of distraction, a failed move, and his blade pierced through her heart.

“No!” Quinlan’s voice pleaded and Lord Menis removed his lightsaber from her lifeless body, it crumbled at his feet. He stepped over her, but, even before she did, the Jedi ran.

“Kill him!” He ordered the clones, but the Jedi was fast despite the severe injury he had sustained. The blaster fire rained on the fleeing Jedi, but the Force was his ally and he averted and clumsily deflected whatever blasts came at him as he ran deeper into the building.

The Sith Lord ran after him, but three destroyers blocked his path, their shields took too long to take down and while he leapt over them, deflected their fire and pierced them with his lightsaber, the Jedi was nowhere to be seen.

He was about to run in his direction when CC-2224’s voice rang through his commlink. “Sir, we discovered the location of the Separatist Leaders. The blast doors are closed, we are trying to get in.”

Suddenly he remembered his mission, to destroy what remained of the CIS leadership, to end the war once and for all. He looked at the corridor that the Jedi had entered but he stopped himself, a low snarl escaped his lips, but he stopped himself from following.

“Where are they?” He asked his Commander.

“Top floor, my Lord. The men outside tell us a ship is trying to approach. We don’t have much time, Sir.”

Lord Menis didn’t answer and ran towards the turbolift. He could not allow Nute Gunray and the remainder of the Separatist scum to escape. As soon as he reached the door, CC-2224, who was hard working at opening the door, stood and saluted.

The Dark Lord did not acknowledge him and shoved his blade into the doors, cutting an entrance into the traitor’s hideout. He walked inside alone, the cowards hid behind chairs and tables; their very presences reeked of fear and panic.

They raised their hands in surrender. Lord Menis did not accept it.

He killed them all.

At last, the Empire was at peace.


	13. The Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I hope you enjoy this new update. I know it took a while but RL and the fact that I’ve started a novel doesn’t leave much time left for this story. However, I write when I can. Leave me your thoughts and thank you for hanging around!

The hangar was filled with ships, an amalgamation of vessels from different manufacturers, altered in various degrees. There were passenger ships, freighters and even some odd starfighters. Most of them, however, were heavily armed, having been modified by bounty hunters, smugglers and even pirates.

All of them had been arrested in Alderaan over the last couple of years, all of them deprived of their most valuable possession that now awaited reassignment or simply dismantlement.

Anakin ran his palms over their hulls and smiled. There was something about ships that he had always loved; their certainty, their perfect mechanics, their infinite potential to bestow a man his freedom, the very thing he had always yearned for.

“I don’t know which one would be more suitable. Something with a confortable living space for the three of you, some weapons, with a good hyperdrive, but at the same time inconspicuous,” Bail said, deep in practical thought.

To him, like to many people, a ship was but an instrument. To Anakin, however, it was much more than that. A ship was a reflection of the person who flew it, a part of him. Almost like his lightsaber was an extension of himself.

The young Jedi smiled. “Yes, of course.” He replied as he surveyed the impounded crafts. Obviously Bail was right, if he was going to travel through the Galaxy with Ahsoka and Rex for long periods of time, searching for Jedi and attempting to establish the seeds of a Rebellion, they needed all those qualities in their craft. Anakin would fix it to his own liking, of course, like he always had. But this ship was to be his home and as he connected to the crystal that powered his blade, he wished to connect with the engines, the hyperdrive and the cannons.

An old corellian freighter caught Bail’s attention. “Maybe this one would be appropriate,” he remarked, “It has all the necessary commodities for you and your crew.”

“I’m sure it does.” Anakin replied, but for some reason, the Force told him it was not the one. He walked past the alderaanian Senator and entered deeper into the hangar. A flash of blackness caught his attention.

He approached the ship, it was beautiful and, as he surveyed it more closely, a lump formed in his throat. It looked exactly like it, except for the color. His mind transported him to a day in the desert when he was a little boy, being chased down by a Sith, in a time when he didn’t even know what it was. He remembered running towards it, shining under the blistering sun.

It was in a ship exactly like that one that he had gone through space for the first time, it was in a ship like that he had given the japor snippet to Padmé, the one she was still wearing the last time he saw her, it was in a ship like that he had been so cold and realized that he might never see his mother again.

Anakin ran his hand through its black and shiny hull and all the memories assaulted him like a thunderstorm.

He sensed Bail approaching him, but the Senator said nothing. He watched as he picked up the datapad next to the ship and looked at it intently.

“The Nubian,” his friend said, “It is scheduled to be dismantled for parts tomorrow. It belonged to a crew of pirates from Naboo who built it from the carcass of an old Nubian Yacht, but it is actually modified to be a combat cruiser. It has all the characteristics we need, weapons system, hyperdrive, shields and good living conditions, even if it is a little big.”

“Did you know the first ship I ever traveled in looked exactly like this?” Anakin asked, ignoring the practical observations his friend made.

Bail settled down the datapad and set his eyes on him. “During the Naboo crisis?”

The question went without answer and Anakin touched the perfectly drawn yellow stripes on the side of the ship with his flesh fingers.

“Anakin,” Bail started, “Padmé and I were good friends.” The Jedi looked at his friend with the mention of her name. “I know that she was expecting a child, not that she ever told me anything, but it was hard to hide.” He said with a smile and looking at nowhere, as if remembering a pleasant moment from long ago. “I know you two had a special connection. The way you looked at each other was unmistakable. And then after everything…” he stopped for a moment, searching for his words, “the Emperor announced her passing, I went to her funeral. He said it was the Jedi but she was just too much of an obstacle.” He sighed, the smile had faded from his face. “What I mean is, I am sorry Anakin.”

“I’m sorry too, Bail. And thank you.”

“I think she would like you to take that one.”

“You know, not long ago I would do anything to save her. Now, I just want to do whatever she would want me to. I may never see my child, I may have lost my wife, but I want to make her proud.”

“I’m sure you will, Anakin. I’m sure you will.” Bail said, setting a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s move it to the Palace hangar so you can ready it for take-off. I will take care of everything; I’ll just have to erase any records of it and change the registration information.”

Anakin nodded as he pressed the button to open the hatch.

“What do you want to name it?” Bail asked.

Anakin was already halfway across the ramp when he replied. _“The Queen.”_

* * *

It was a long trip back to Coruscant. Lord Menis spent it in his ship’s quarters. He tossed his cloak on the floor, took off the smothering mask that covered his mouth and nose and tossed it aside. He sat on the side of his bed and took in his minimalistic and metallic surroundings and asked himself, for the first time in so long, what he was doing. And more importantly, why he was doing it.

He looked down at his gloved hands and realized they were shaking slightly. Lord Menis closed them into fists.

“This is for Anakin, for Leia, for Luke,” he said to himself, he repeated it like one would repeat a prayer. Remembering… remembering. Remembering he almost killed his childhood friend, remembering he took Luminara’s life, remembering he slaughtered unnarmed people.

Remembering, remembering.

“I did what I had to do.” He said to the empty room, his words echoed on the cold walls and returned to him in a whisper.

“They weren’t innocents, they were traitors. It was their fault the war started, their greed and their malice led me to this. And I did it for Anakin, so that he doesn’t have to.”

Then Lord Menis chuckled and wondered what would happen if anyone were to enter that room and catch him talking to himself aloud. They would think he was mad.

Maybe he was.

Yes, surely he was. He tried to kill Quinlan, he killed Luminara.

They’d grown up together, fought together, laughed together.

The smile faded from his lips. “Enemies, traitors.” He whispered and took his eyes away from his trembling, blood stained hands.

Luminara’s lightsaber peeked through the folds of his tossed cloak, he had brought it with him. Why? He hardly knew. Perhaps as a trophy, or a souvenir, or proof, or a reminder?

He stood and picked it from the floor. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship with a simple yet lovely design. He ignited its green blade and its characteristic sound filled the room.

Lord Menis extinguished the blade and set it carefully on the bed. He sat on the floor in front of it and rested his back on the cold wall. There he stared at it. “Better me than him.” He whispered.

* * *

Quinlan Vos dragged himself to his ship on the outskirts of the city. For some reason, the Sith did not follow and, despite his injuries, the Force was still his ally and he managed to lose the few clonetroopers that had been able to pursue him.

He took off with no destination, entering coordinates into the navicomputer far into the Outer Rim, where the Empire had no reach. Not yet, at least. Though he could hardly predict how far the Empire could expand over the next few years.

The Jedi Master activated the medical droid to tend to his wounds, though there was little it could do for him. Thankfully lightsabers cauterized wounds, or he would not have lasted long. The only thing that could be done was dull his pain, yet, as inviting as it sounded, the Jedi was alone and he could not afford to cloud his senses even more than the excruciating pain already did.

While he travelled through hyperspace Master Vos dared close his eyes to rest, even though the pain made sleep elude him. But it was not just the pain that refused him his repose, but the constant image of Luminara falling to the blade of the Sith.

Because of him; because of his rashness and the plan he had created.

What a silly idea to align with the Separatists, they should have run for their lives, they should have hidden and work for the endurance of the last remnants of the Jedi Order. But he was arrogant, he wanted to make a stand, even if it was his last.

But it wasn’t his last, it was Luminara’s.

Quinlan Vos closed his eyes, dwelling in the thoughts of his failure. He had nowhere to go, he had nothing to do, alone in the emptiness of space.

* * *

The hardest part of a journey is the beginning. It’s easy to know one’s goal; the toughest part is knowing which path to take to reach it.

To find surviving Jedi and secure a location for a base sounded like simple enough tasks. But, as Anakin sat at the helm of _The Queen_ , still on the Alderaanian Palace hangar, things seemed to become far more complicated.

The Galaxy was vast, Jedi had been spread thin and all the bases he knew of, were also known by the Empire.

A shrill of beeps came from Artoo. _Where are we going?_ He had asked. But Anakin, Ahsoka and Rex sat silent, unaware of where to begin.

“I don’t know.” The Jedi Master answered, in an almost deaf voice and the droid was silent, waiting for his master’s command.

“We have to leave the Core,” said Ahsoka. They did. It was swarming with imperials that, slowly, were taking over security of the planets. Alderaan had managed to escape the close grip of the Emperor, but they all knew it would not last long.

Anakin sighed. “We need a plan.”

“Well,” offered Rex, a bit hesitant, “Perhaps you have knowledge of where some of the other Jedi was stationed just before… the end of the war.”

“Yes, many some of them are still hiding in those planets, unable to leave.” Said his young Padawan.

“From what I remember from our last briefing Master Mundi was in Mygeeto, Aayla Secura was in Felucia, Master Vos and Master Unduli were in Kashyyyk with Master Yoda. I don’t know, the Jedi were spread all across the Galaxy, and I wasn’t exactly focused on those last few days of the war, too many things were on my mind.” The young Knight replied, dreading to be reminded of the things that had occupied his thoughts during those wretched days.

“Mygeeto seems a good enough place for you to start. It’s in the Outer Rim and one of the few worlds there that the Empire actually has some control over, so it’s good for a quick escape.” Bail had suddenly become Senator Organa, making a plan, almost giving orders, even though there was no hierarchy in their small rebellion. It made Anakin smile.

“Mygeeto it is!” The Knight said.

He bid farewell to Bail Organa and the crew made their way to their first mission. What an odd group they were. Two Jedi disguised as simple travelers, a clone with painted armour and a replacement helmet who looked more like a bounty hunter than anything else, and a the most efficient and enthusiastic droid in the Galaxy.

Anakin lifted _The Queen_ from the hangar and soon, the lights of hyperspace illuminated the cockpit, leading them towards this new part of their lives, to the unknown of the future and, perhaps, to the beginning of the victory over the Sith.

* * *

Darth Menis had trouble understanding the Emperor’s fondness of luxury. Marble floors and imposing furniture seemed to be such trivial pursuits to him that he hardly comprehended the need for them, especially for a Force user, regardless of the side he chose to wield.

He entered the throne room of the new Imperial Palace, which, curiously, had already begun construction during the days of the fallen Republic. Well, everyone thought it was going to be a museum, but apparently the plans for the edifice had always been different.

His Master sat on top of the dais; two red-clad guards surrounded him, stoic as ever. A small man with greying hair stood at the bottom, speaking almost casually to the Emperor, a feat few managed to accomplish.

“My dear friend,” the Emperor said at the sight of his apprentice, opening his arms and descending from his throne, “welcome!”

Lord Menis bowed slightly and the small man turned to him, he recognized him immediately, but refrained from any remark, despite his deep dislike of the man and his already known power hunger. “I don’t believe you two have met. Lord Menis, this is Admiral Tarkin, I have just appointed him Moff of the Greater Seswenna sector. He will be a great ally to our cause, my friend.”

“Lord Menis, it is a pleasure to meet you at last. Our dear Emperor has spoken very highly of you.” The Moff said, extending his hand to greet the Sith. Darth Menis, however, did not take it.

“Moff Tarkin, I see you are already ascending the steps of your Imperial career.”

The Moff removed his hand and folded it behind his back, his chin rose in defiance and pride. “I am loyal to our Empire and to our Emperor.”

“Of course you are.” Menis replied, remembering their previous encounters, both of which had left a bad taste in his mouth.

But that had been a long time ago, in another life.

“Moff Tarkin,” Sidious interjected, “I will not keep you from your duties any further. I have important things to discuss with Lord Menis. Perhaps we can resume our conversation at another time.”

“Of course Your Highness.” The Moff bowed and left, but not before glaring at the Sith Apprentice. It was clear, for both, that their relationship would be strained, to say the least.

As soon as the Moff left the room, the Emperor strolled to the window and looked at the view of Coruscant. The Palace was a tall building, eve taller than the now half burnt Jedi Temple. The Sith looked down at the city and its citizens, all his servants, all pawns in his power game.

Lord Menis took his place at his Master’s side. The lights of the city shone brightly, the speeders passed by in chaotic rows, as it had always been, as it would always be. Oblivious to their surroundings, to the infinity of pain that would befall them if they uttered the wrong word.

“Your mission, I hear, was a success.” Sidious said, interrupting Menis’ thoughts.

“Yes, my Master. The Separatist leaders are no longer a threat to the Empire.”

“Good, good.” The Sith said and paused. “And the Jedi you have encountered?”

“Master Luminara is dead, but Master Vos was able to escape. He was severely injured, however.”

The Emperor sighed. “And you allowed a Jedi to escape after killing one of his kind in front of him? Surely you know he will want revenge.”

 _That is not the Jedi way,_ Lord Menis thought and he almost uttered the words. He stopped himself. “By the time I was done with the Separatist Leaders he was already gone, My Master.”

“I shall not hear your excuses!” The Sith snarled and showed his yellowed teeth. A burst of lighting escaped from his fingers and Menis fell in pain. The lightning soared through his body, burning him from the inside out.

It was not the first time he endured the punishment, it had happened many times during the course of his training. But this time the anger was tenfold, as was the pain inflicted upon him.

Lord Menis writhed on the ground, screaming like a boy, as his Master shouted, enjoying the taste of death and pain. “I will not tolerate failure!”

Suddenly, the lightning ceased. The Emperor crossed his hands behind his back and walked up the stairs to his dais, as Lord Menis struggled with the remnants of the onslaught he had endured. He felt the sweat on his back and forehead. Every one of his muscles burned and his bones ached as if they’d been broken and yet, through the Force, he could feel his body was unharmed, even though it seemed as if the life had been sucked out of him.

“Do not fail me again. Next time I will not be so lenient.” The Sith Master said as he sat on his imposing throne once more. “Leave me.”

Darth Menis planted his palms on the floor and forced his trembling legs to stand on their own. He found it in him to bow and limped out of the throne room, alone, lost and beaten.

* * *

It had been a long day; the twins had been unusually agitated and Padmé had fussed around them all day. She had activated the medical droids no less than three times, only for it to reassure her that her children were perfectly healthy.

She sat on the plush chair that was in between their cribs in the nursery and sighed. She hardly dared to move, lest they would wake up one more time. And, despite the multiple reassurances, she feared they might be ill.

It was late in the night, she knew she should go to bed, but she couldn’t help but bask in the sound of her babies’ soft snores.

Padmé rested her back on the chair and laid a blanket over her body, soon, after such a hard day, she fell asleep.

She didn’t rest long, however. Her light sleep was interrupted by the sound of an opening door and a thud. She stood in haste, the blanket that covered her crumpled on the floor.

In the dead of night, all the small sounds seemed like thunder. She looked at the twins, they remained asleep, probably exhausted from their restless day. Suddenly she wished she had a weapon.

Silently she moved from her place, tiptoeing across the corridor.

She reached the living area and, despite the darkness, she could make out dark form of a man lying haphazardly on the sofa. She had never missed her blaster as much as she did in that moment.

Slowly Padmé approached the dark form and soon it became apparent which man it was. Her heart sank and before she reached him she uttered his name, almost as a question. “Obi-Wan?”

“I’m sorry,” his weakened voice said, “I didn’t mean to frighten you. I-I didn’t know where else to go.”

Padmé heard his muffled voice, coming from behind the mask of a stranger, and her heart shattered into pieces. She knew what he was, she knew what he’d become; she’d seen him kill those children and couldn’t even imagine the deeds that followed and that made him sink deeper into the darkness and despair. But, despite all that, she couldn’t help but pity him and mourn for the loss of the man he had once been, for the friend that always had a kind smile on his face and a word of encouragement to offer.

Carefully she knelt beside her husband’s dearest friend and slowly removed the mask from his face and lowered the hood from his head. His auburn locks were still there, his face was the same as it had been only days before his fall. His eyes, however, were empty and the warmth had been ripped from them.

“You are always welcome here, Obi-Wan.” She told him and ran a soothing hand through his hair. “Are you hurt?”

“I’m not Obi-Wan anymore.” He replied, ignoring the latter question.

Padmé sighed. “I might be a prisoner, but this is still my home and in here, you will always be Obi-Wan.

She saw him smile bitterly in the darkness. “We can leave. All of us. We can look for Anakin and get far away from the Emperor. You don’t need to stay here.” Padmé said.

The Sith sat up and ran his hand through his pain stricken face. “It’s not time yet. I need to keep Anakin safe. I can’t let him go after him.”

“He is already after him. Have you seen the bounty on his head?” She grabbed his gloved hands in hers. “Let’s leave this place, run away.”

Menis shook his head. “No, we can’t. Not yet. I have an arrangement with Sidious.”

“And you think he will keep it?”

“Not forever, but he will for now.”

“But people are already hunting him down. If we go we can help him. He is already away from Palpatine’s reach!” She pleaded.

“Please Padmé, please understand that I have to keep him safe. And you and the children. I promised him.”

“We’ll be safer with him!”

“It isn’t time yet. One day, I promise. But please know that I will never let anyone hurt you, or the children.”

She closed her eyes and kept the tears that threatened to spill at bay. “I know. But I worry about him.”

“We must keep him away from the Emperor for as long as we can. When the time comes, when he is ready, he will come. Until then, it is too dangerous.” He stopped for a moment and sighed. Padmé could see the sadness in his yellowish eyes. “You must understand, there are fates worse than death.”

Padmé stood and paced the room. Her heart threatened to stop for beating so fast. She looked at her friend, there was nothing she could say that would change his mind, there was nothing she could say to change him, to turn him into the man he once was and she feared that man was gone forever. And then, she did understand, so she asked, “like yours?”


End file.
